


Convergence

by sageclover61



Series: Paradise [5]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Archangels, Comfort, Dating, Fluff, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Pregnant archangels, Snow, angelic marriage traditions, angelic mate bonds, sam winchester has a panic attack, the archangels are really good brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2019-10-28 16:41:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 31,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17791013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sageclover61/pseuds/sageclover61
Summary: Gabriel is convinced that it is time for Sam to meet all of his siblings, but that it has to happen on Sam's terms. And Sam- he agrees. It goes surprisingly well. Even if at least one of the archangels is apparently also pregnant.





	1. Samandriel

Sam leaned his head forward, pressing it against Gabriel’s chest, and yawned. He was so tired of being perpetually exhausted, but Gabriel never judged. At times, Sam wondered if maybe the archangel liked the change of pace.

 

They were cuddling on Sam’s bed in the hotel. Dean had left with Cas earlier and his archangel had dropped by.

 

“You don’t have to stay awake for me,” Gabriel whispered into Sam’s hair. Sam barely had the opportunity to  _ think  _ ‘Don’t leave,’ before the trickster pagan archangel was continuing, “I’ll stay right here as long as you want me to. But this is nice.”

 

“Have things to do,” Sam tried to argue. But it was a weak excuse these days. He suspected it might be the pillow Castiel had given him, but he’d been sleeping better than he’d ever slept before. And far too much. If his alarms were within arms reach, they didn’t go off. And the distance they had to be from the bed was increasing.  _ Dean had been pissed, but he hadn’t asked about it yet. _

 

“You can’t function without sleep, Sam. I think Cas and Dean are going to be gone all day, we could do something fun when you wake up.” Gabriel had been visiting Sam with a greater frequency since initiating the courting bond, and they went and did things together. They’d seen some movies in theaters, ate at fancy restaurants around the world, toured a few museums. And on one notable occasion, Gabriel even found Sam a quick hunt and went on it with him.

 

Sam was happy, genuinely blissful for the first time in a long time. “Thank you,” he mumbled, leaning further towards Gabriel as the archangel pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. Fighting sleep was still first nature, but the relaxed state of listening to Gabriel’s steady heartbeat,  _ why do archangels have heartbeats-  _ was as good as sleeping.

  
  


The door opened, but it wasn’t Dean and it didn’t bang open like it would have if it had been. The sound also didn’t wake Sam, who had finally fallen asleep in Gabriel’s arms. 

 

“Hey, Gabe? Can you keep an eye on Samandriel for a few hours?”

 

Gabriel glanced at the doorway, where Aziraphale and Samandriel were standing. “Sure, I guess.” He liked the small fledgling, and there was no reason for Sami to  _ not  _ stay with him and Sam on Earth for a few hours while Azi did whatever it was that required the fledgling to not be in Heaven. Which, all things considered, was probably for the best since it seemed pretty likely that Azi was looking for the opportunity to talk to his twin without any possible chance of Raphael’s fledgling eavesdropping. And if Gabriel was going to try this courting thing, he would have to eventually find out if Sam could get along with Sami.

  
  


Which was how Sam woke up with a small child sleeping beside him. The child appeared to be about five or six at the most, and was wrapped in a light blue blanket. From the angle the blanket was wrapped, Sam could see wings poking out from underneath. “Hey, Gabe?” he called out. “Who is this, why is there a fledgling in my bed?”

 

The fledgling blinked up at him, sleepily. “I’s Sami! Azi broughted me!”

 

Azi, short for Aziraphale, Sam assumed, filing the information into his head. He didn’t remember Gabriel or Castiel mentioning any fledglings in their flock, but that might have been information left out for the protection of said fledgling.  _ Wait.  _ Hadn’t God created all the angels long before he’d left, such that they should all have been  _ adults? _

 

Gabriel stepped into view, holding a kettle with one hand and whisking the contents with the other. “Sam-a-lam! I’m glad you’re awake! I was just making pancakes. This is Raph’s fledgling, Samandriel. Samandriel, I’d like you to meet Sam.”

 

Sami blinked up at Sam. He squinted, and Sam wondered if the fledgling was trying to get around the similarity between the sounds in the two names. He didn’t say anything, because he  _ didn’t  _ have a nickname that would help out the fledgling.

 

“Tha’s Samael’s short name,” the fledgling whined, pouting as he pulled his blanket close. “Can’t be your name, ‘s not yours!”

 

Sam blinked at Samandriel, confused as to how to proceed. “Okay, what name do you think I should go by? It’s the only one I have that’s not an indication of family.”

 

The fledgling squinted harder. “Then… Then… You’s should be-” But the fledgling had no idea what other name this  _ Sam _ should go by. There was no easy way to shorten it further and he didn’t know enough about the human to give him an entirely new name.

  
  


“Samandriel, why don’t we figure out what to call him later, and have a snack?” Sam looked up to see Gabriel walking towards him, carrying a tray of various foods. “Azi and Raph will get a bit mad at me if I don’t have you eat something, so why not think while you eat?”

 

The fledgling looked deep in thought for several moments, before nodding as he scootched closer to Sam to make room for Gabriel to sit next to them. “Guess so.”

 

“Weren't you just making pancakes?” Sam asked, confused by the spread appearing to be everything except pancakes.

 

Gabriel merely smirked. “Yeah, but that was before Sami here woke up. Kiddo’s more used to things like finger foods, and I figured that your nice, comfy bed wasn’t the place to test if he’s ready to graduate to a fork and knife.” There was a pause as they watched Samandriel reach for some of the small sandwiches. “Besides, I happen to know that finger food is more fun than real food.”

 

Sam rolled his eyes, glaring at Gabriel lightly. “Gabriel…..”

 

“What?” The archangel was grinning, entirely unrepentant for his innuendo in front of the fledgling.

 

Sam shook his head, deciding that it wasn’t worth it to say anything else. He took a strawberry from the plate. It was tender, but not overripe. Certainly better than pancakes. As he glanced down at the fledgling who had juice dripping down his chin, he decided that Gabriel probably had a point. He didn’t really want syrup all over his brand new pillow.

 

And if their conversation really was going over the fledgling’s head, who certainly wasn’t paying attention to them… He leaned forward to give Gabriel a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’d certainly be open to trying whatever you had in mind,” he whispered.

 

Gabriel ducked his head. He had complete control over his vessel and so wasn’t blushing, but it was a near thing. “Maybe we can talk about it later?”

  
  


They ate mostly in silence after that, except for Samandriel rambling on about everything in the way that fledglings do.

 

“You’s can be Sam,” the fledgling declared.

 

Sam dutifully hummed in agreement, but he’d barely heard the sound through his fog muddled thoughts. Gabriel and Samandriel had been talking at a reasonable level, so it was really easy to let the perpetual exhaustion take control for a little while. Gabriel would be on high alert protecting the fledgling, there was no way they were anything but safe and sometimes the thought of sleep just felt so nice.

 

He felt something warm and heavy against his side and shoulder. It was soft, and he didn’t feel like opening his eyes when he already knew he wouldn’t see anything. Gabriel was tactile, of course it was a wing.

  
  


All too soon the door banged open louder than the person likely intended. That was Dean’s thing, and he was  _ really good  _ at it. “Hey, Sammy!”

 

There was an awkward pause as Dean’s gaze found the archangel, the child with mint green wings fluttering with agitation, and his had been sleeping brother.

 

“Uh… Sam? Who’s the kid?”

 

Sam stared blearily at Dean. “This is Sami.” He placed emphasis on the second syllable in an attempt to get his brother to catch what he was implying.

 

Sami pouted. “I’s Sammy,” he agreed. “Who’s you?” he asked in Dean’s direction.

 

“That’s my big brother, Dean. He called me the wrong name without knowing it was yours, but big brothers have special privileges when it comes to name calling. And I promise he won’t do it again while you’re here.”

 

Sami frowned slightly, tilting his head slightly as he turned to look at Dean. “You’s a big brother?”

 

Dean grinned. “Yep! I've been a big brother for as long as so can remember. What about you? Are you a big brother?” 

 

“No,” Sami answered, pouting. “But you hasta teach me! Imma be the bestest bigged brother!”

 

Both Sam and Dean blinked in confusion.

 

Gabriel looked at Samandriel.  _ He was in so much trouble. _ “Sami, Kiddo, you're the only fledgling in our nest.”

 

“No! Bestest brother.”

 

Dean walked towards the bed. “Well, it couldn't hurt to teach you a few things about being an older brother. I always protect my little brother, even when I'm mad at him. And there's things I get to say to him that no one else in the world can even  _ think _ .”

 

Dean folded himself onto the end of the bed, settling in to tell Sami the better stories he could think of about being an older brother.

 

And Sam watched. The fledgling crawled over to sit in front of Dean and Gabriel shifted so he was cuddling Sam. Saw was still exhausted, but Dean's storytelling had always been too enthralling to sleep during.

 

“I'm sorry I'm so boring,” Sam whispered to the archangel sometime later, when Dean was talking about the rabbit's foot and Sam's missing shoe.

 

“You’re not boring,” Gabriel whispered back. “There’s nothing wrong with a quiet day, and Samandriel seems to be really enjoying story time with your brother.”

 

“Dean’s bestest at storytime,” he giggled. He yawned, closing his eyes as Gabriel brushed his forehead with a hand then kissed his cheek.

 

Despite his desire to continue listening to Dean’s stories, Sam did end up falling asleep in Gabriel’s arms.

 

“Okay, Buddy,” Gabriel said a while later. “We should probably think about heading home.”

 

“No!” Samandriel left Dean’s side, crawling over to carefully slide himself against Sam’s back. Sam didn’t stir at all. “Wanna stay here.”

 

Gabriel rolled his eyes, but relented. “Alright, but if you wake Sam, we’re leaving.”

  
  


They didn’t end up staying until Sam woke up because Aziraphale let Gabriel know that if it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience, he could bring Sami back whenever he wanted to. He hoped that maybe leaving, Sami would get the idea of ‘learning how to be an older brother’ out of his head.  _ Yes _ it was an open secret that Mikha and Heylel thought they were ready to start having children and were trying pretty hard to have said children, but that didn’t mean that Sami was supposed to know about it or that Rafa would appreciate Sami mentioning it in every other breath.

 

Dean woke Sam up about half an hour after Gabriel left. “Hey, Sleepyface, wake up. If you sleep all day, how are you supposed to sleep  _ tonight _ ?”

 

Sam was pretty sure that he could sleep all day  _ and  _ sleep all night, but he was also pretty sure that wasn’t what his brother really wanted to hear, so he didn’t say it. “Did you find a hunt?” he asked instead.

 

“Since you’ve been neglecting the search, yes, I  _ did.  _ It’s a long drive, so you can sleep in the car.”

  
  


Sam slept the entire car ride. With the pillow from Cas tucked against the doorframe of the impala, he slept better than he had since he’d been a child, tucked safely against Dean, lulled by the purring engine.

 

“I’m not sure what’s going on with you,” Dean said when they were sitting at the table in the new hotel room. “But I  _ need  _ you to tell me if you’re not okay, not feeling well enough to have my back. You know how dangerous hunting can be if your head’s not in the game.”

 

“I’m fine!” Sam insisted, gulping his coffee. He  _ knew  _ what could happen if he couldn’t get rid of the fog in his brain that just wouldn’t go away. He couldn’t get Dean killed because he couldn’t focus.

 

“Okay, well, I’m going to get some sleep. If you can keep from falling asleep for five minutes, you should do some research.”

 

Sam did the research. And fell asleep on the couch. And the hunt was more or less a success. Even if Cas showing up ended up being a good thing for Dean because Sam well… Nobody knew.

  
  


“We have babysitting duty,” Gabriel declared about half a week later at the next hotel room they were staying in. He was bouncing a giggling Sami on his hip and looked quite pleased with himself.

 

“Good morning, Sami,” Sam said, walking towards them.

 

“Sam!” Sami raised his arms in the universal sign of “hold me”. “Up! Up! You’s tall!”

 

Sam took Sami from Gabriel and then put the fledgling on his shoulders. “Is that better?”

 

“Woah!”

 

Sam grinned, then walked around the room. The fledgling squealed when Sam stopped and straightened randomly as he moved.

 

“Pway game?” Sami asked when Sam started a second loop.

 

“What if we play hide and seek outside?” Gabriel suggested.

 

“Yes!” Sami exclaimed. “Down, Sam!”

 

Sam laughed and put the fledgling down. He grabbed his coat and followed Gabriel and the fledgling outside. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Sam whispered to Gabriel. “I don’t want to lose Sami.”

 

“It’ll be great! Sami, you and I’ll hide and Sam can look for us. Sam, please cover your eyes and count, loudly to 100!”

  
  


Sam counted. He was going to never find Sami, and then he was going to either kill Gabriel or make the archangel smite him before the rest of the archangels found out he lost their child. He sniffled.

 

The temperature dropped and Sam worried further. Sami lived in Heaven, which was probably warm. What if the fledgling couldn’t handle the cold?

 

It was April. Not very far into it. A little late for the temperature to drop, but not totally unheard of.

 

“Ready or not, here I come!” he shouted.

 

He’d find the fledgling first, let Gabe count the next time. If he hid with the fledgling, he wouldn’t have to worry about losing him.

 

Ten minutes into looking, it started snowing. Sam was cold, and tired, and his nose was running, and he was  _ going  _ to murder his boyfriend.

  
  


In the end, Sam found neither Gabriel, nor the fledgling, but Sami found him. “Sam! I’s cold!”

 

The fledgling was shivering, wings shaking out the snow and trembling. Sam picked him up, unzipping his jacket because he couldn’t think of a better way to offer the fledgling warmth. And then he headed back towards the motel because he knew he needed to get them both warm.

  
  


Gabriel came back to the room a little while later to find Sam and the fledgling curled up on the bed, bedding piled up around them. They were both shivering.

 

“Hey, Sam, you still awake?” he asked quietly as he approached.

 

“Mmm,” Sam mumbled. His arms tightened around the fledgling and he shivered harder.

 

“I think Sami decided he wanted it to snow, but I counteracted most of it so people will just think there was an unpredicted spring storm. You okay?”

 

“Cold.” Sam sniffled in emphasis.

  
  


A few minutes later, two figures appeared in the doorway. Michael as the very young John Winchester and Lucifer in his normal vessel except Nick had long since ceased falling apart.

 

Michael was holding a folded blanket and on top of it was a pillow. They appeared to be fleece and looked very soft.

 

Gabriel grinned when he saw them and ran over to hug them both.

 

“You’re here to meet my intended, right? You have to come meet Sam.”

 

“I was a little worried about the snowstorm,” Michael admitted. “Everything all right down here?”

 

“Sami got a little excited while we were playing hide and seek, but no harm no foul and he’s just fine. If a little cold.” Gabriel dragged his older brothers over to the bed. “Sam, Mikha and Heylel  wanted to come say hello.”

 

“Hello,” Sam said, turning his head to look at them. He was bleary eyed and didn’t see them very well, and didn’t make an effort to move much because he was just so  _ cold. _

 

“We’ll come say hi sometime when you’re move awake,” Michael promised. “But we brought a blanket and pillow for you in the meantime.”

 

Gabriel got Sam to lift his head so that Michael’s pillow could go next to the one Castiel had given them, and Heylel carefully draped the blanket over the human and fledgling. Sam hummed in appreciation.

 

“We came to pick up Sami,” Heylel said quietly. “But they look so cozy, I don’t want to move them.”

 

“If someone doesn’t come to get him later, I’ll bring him back tonight,” Gabriel replied. “See you later?”

 

The older archangels nodded and flew off.

  
  


Gabriel laid down on the bed next to Sam and woke up from a light doze to find Sami standing next to Raphael and the healer tucking a blanket that had already been wrapped around Sam over him. It didn’t have the same feeling as the one Mikha had brought, and instead felt strongly of Raphael’s grace.

 

“Your mate’s taken a bit of a cold, but it’s just from exhaustion, he’ll be fine,” Raphael promised. “I’m going to take my fledgling home so you two can get some more sleep, there’s a bowl of soup here that’ll stay warm until you’re both ready to eat it. Go back to sleep, Gabby. You both deserve it.”


	2. Heylel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If there's one thing that John Winchester did well, it was instill in his children the proper respect for people who are pregnant. The sexist, xenophobic, and racist bastard would probably have been referring specifically to pregnant women, but Sam wasn't inclined to judge. Not even against pregnant archangels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I did intend to post this chapter soon, but it's been busy here (next week is midterms). I wanted to stick to a posting schedule, but I also kept thinking this other piece I've been working on will suddenly be complete and it's not.

“I know I talk about how much I love my brothers, and how different they are than they were during the apocalypse. But you shouldn’t just take my word for it because your feelings about the apocalypse matter too, and they  _ hurt you. _ If you can be comfortable with it, I’d like you to consider meeting, Heylel at least, when he’s alone so that you can form an opinion for yourself. But it’s okay if you can’t, I don’t want to push you into doing something that makes you uncomfortable.”

 

Sam’s breath hitched, but he forced himself to relax. He  _ loved  _ Gabriel. And even if it seemed like an unbelievable future, he couldn’t fathom not spending the rest of his life with  _ his  _ archangel. And if Gabriel wanted him to consider meeting Heylel, then he could think about it. There was a pretty slim chance he would be in danger from the elder archangel, and if Gabriel thought there was  _ any _ chance, he wouldn’t be suggesting it in the first place.

 

“You don’t have to do decide now,” Gabriel said. “And you don’t have to do it just because you think it’ll make me happy.”

 

“I don’t want you to pick me over your family,” Sam said. “And I do want to meet them, even your Heylel.”

 

“There won’t be any true vessel shenanigans, I swear it. Mikha and Heylel are so in love it’s gross and Mikha has laid claim to Heylel’s current vessel.”

 

Sam could be down with no pressure to say yes. “They’re probably trying to embarrass you. Older brothers’ prerogative and all that. But I’ll do it. I’ll meet your brothers and form my own opinion.”

 

“Thank you.” Gabriel kissed Sam’s cheek. “Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

Sam didn’t really think about Gabriel’s request until he got a business card sized note with a request to meet at a coffee shop in down. It made a point to remind Sam that there was no obligation to show up, but Sam decided he  _ wanted  _ to meet Heylel on neutral territory and if he didn’t do it now, he might chicken out and  _ never  _ get it done.

 

Sam was late. It wasn’t intentional, but he realized that he wanted to ensure that he arrived after the archangel.

 

He identified Heylel the second he walked into the coffee shop, ad he wasn’t afraid. It was pretty empty, but no one seemed too unhappy. People drinking their coffee or eating their snacks.

 

Heylel was sitting at a table in the back, a glass of water and a chocolate chip muffin in front of him.

 

He approached calmly, taking the seat across from Heylel. “Hello.”

 

“Good afternoon, Sam.” Heylel looked up. “I don’t know if Gabriel mentioned it, but I would prefer if you call me Heylel, not Lucifer.”

 

“Heylel,” Sam repeated, more because he wanted to be sure that the archangel understood his intention to call him by the preferred name. He wasn’t a dick, and he wasn’t surprised, because he still remembered that both Gabriel and Castiel called their elder brother by the older name.

 

He wasn’t sure what else he was supposed to say. The apocalypse was over and everyone was unbelievably happy,  _ like a Djinn dream _ , and at times it felt like waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Water?” he inquired about instead, for lack of having anything else to say. “I would have thought expresso was more your style.”

 

“If it’s bad for pregnant humans, I think I’ll pass. Water is fine.”

 

Sam blinked.  _ Pregnant?  _ Actually… he wasn’t surprised if they really  _ had  _ been going at it like rabbits. Asking would be rude though. “Are you happy?”

 

That seemed to be the right thing to say, because Heylel beamed. “Sam, I honestly regret how you were used to bring about the apocalypse, and to some extent, all of us  _ are  _ to blame for that. But I would like to add that hurting Mikha was  _ never  _ my intention, even when I temporarily believed that he might try to kill me. I was cast out of Heaven, by God, in my attempt to protect my mate from His wrath. And yes, Sam. I  _ am  _ happy. The one thing I’ve wanted for so long was to return to my flock, and for it to be whole, and now our family is going to expand and I have  _ never  _ been happier.”

 

Sam nodded. Lucifer may have gotten a bad wrap in the lore on Earth and despite Heylel’s less than apt delivery, he had sympathized with the fallen archangel because it  _ was  _ a parallel to his own childhood. And maybe that had been part of the whole point, but that didn’t matter.

 

He didn’t know if Heylel deserved the second chance, or even if he himself deserved it, but he wasn’t judge and jury so that wasn’t relevant either. What mattered was the fact that they  _ did  _ have their second chance, and as the Romans would have said it, it was time to  _ Seize the Day. _

 

“Would you like to go pick out something for yourself?” Heylel asked after a moment, holding out a leaf of money that Sam was pretty sure he hadn’t been holding a second before.

 

“Uh, thank you,” Sam said. “Do you want me to get something for you too?” Because it didn’t matter that he hadn’t digested everything Heylel had said yet. He  _ knew  _ the archangel wasn’t lying, and that he was telling the truth about everything (including being pregnant) and you were  _ always  _ nice to pregnant people. (And maybe he wasn’t supposed to instantaneously forgive Lucifer for everything he’d done in the last year, but given that it hadn’t been Lucifer personally who had caused any damage to him  _ at all  _ except the creepy pretending to be Jess in the beginning,  _ which was probably more a lack of understanding humans than anything else _ , he was pretty inclined to let bygones be bygones.)

 

“I’m good, thanks Sam,” Heylel said with a nod.

 

“Okay. I’ll be right back.” Sam got up and headed for the line to order.

 

He didn’t know exactly what he wanted, but the line was long enough that he had some time to decide. He also had time to think about his feelings towards Heylel.

 

Carthage had been  _ bad _ . They hadn’t been able to see the reapers, but it hadn’t been good. And the explosion and hellhounds had killed Jo and Ellen.

 

Sam blamed Meg for their deaths, but Lucifer had been responsible to some extent as well. At least he wasn’t trying to get back at him for shooting him with the colt.

 

“What can I get you?”

 

Sam  _ almost  _ ordered a white chocolate and caramel macchiato but Heylel apparently couldn't have coffee (Why would caffeine be bad for a baby angel?) so he decided not to rub it in his face. “I’d like the white chocolate caramel chai and two of those brownies, one of those glazed lemon bread, and…. Could you put a piece of apple pie in a to go box? Thanks.”

 

Sam was waiting for his order when a quick look to see that Heylel was okay revealed that Heylel was no longer alone. He knew when the young man with the appearance of the young John Winchester kissed Heylel on the cheek that Michael had shown up.

 

The hunter wasn’t sure how to feel about that. He hadn’t met the Viceroy of Heaven personally, and he knew he couldn’t just accept Dean’s assessment at face value. But Zachariah and Uriel had been pretty clear about serving Michael and that did not provide a sterling reputation.

 

And yet, watching Michael’s body language, Gabriel was right. They were so in love it was adorable, and if that homophobic dick actually said anything aloud…

 

“This is a family establishment, you and your kind are not welcome!”

 

The items Sam had paid for were placed on the counter, so he grabbed them and stalked in the direction of the homophobe that  _ really  _ shouldn’t have been bothering the archangels.

 

“As scum of the Earth, your opinion isn’t relevant,” he growled. He hated intolerant hypocrites, and he hated that if the guy started anything, one or the other of the archangels would probably  _ smite  _ him (and he’d deserve it.)

 

“And what are you going to do about it?”

 

The guy might have intimidated other people, but Sam was more than six feet of muscle and not only had he learned how to make himself smaller for the sake of not terrifying the humans they interviewed, but since he hunted monsters for a day job, he was quite capable of looking intimidating.

 

So he did. And the guy creating a scene might have wet himself if he hadn’t been so angry.

 

And then the man was moving. And he might have successfully upended his hot coffee over someone’s head,  _ probably Heylel,  _ but Sam was faster. Sam was faster because if there’s one thing you never do, it’s scald someone carrying a child.  _ Not even an archangel, and especially not when the archangel’s archangelic mate is likely to smite you for it. _ Sam didn’t really care about what the aftermath was going to be, he just really wanted to pour his hot tea over the homophobe’s head because it was  _ fun. _

 

Sam’s front took the brunt of the coffee that was aimed for Heylel, but Sam had better aim, so the homophobe found himself drenched from head to toe in Sam’s white chocolate caramel chai.

 

Michael stood up, putting a hand on Sam’s elbow. “I think you should leave,” he said coldly to the drenched man.

 

Sam couldn’t quite tell what it was, but something in his tone must have had grace in it, because the man nodded and left without so much as another word. “Michael?”

 

“Come sit, Sam, I didn’t mean to interrupt your luncheon with Heylel.”

 

A few seconds later, Sam was sitting down, next to Michael, Heylel across from them. His pastries and pie box were on the table, he was dry, and his cup had a steaming liquid in it. He wasn’t quite sure what the archangel had done, but he could guess. “Thank you,” he said. “Did you want something to eat?”

 

“That apple pie smells divine,” Mikha said, almost whining. “May I have it, please?”

 

Heylel licked his lips. “May I please have that lemon bread? Please?”

 

Sam handed Michael the to go box with the pie, and the lemon bread to Heylel. And then he started eating his brownie before one or the other archangel could call dibs on it. There was no way he was going to say no to either archangel. It was just food, and Heylel  _ had  _ paid for it. If there was any pie left at the front counter when they were ready to go, he'd buy more for Dean then.

 

“Sam, if you had any questions for us, about anything at all,” Michael said, “you're welcome to ask. We'll take no offense to any question, this once.”

 

Sam took a hasty sip of his tea, almost choking on his brownie. Sure, he had plenty of questions. But he was inclined to never satiate his curiosity about the less polite questions. And interrogating them about angel biology seemed kind of rude.

 

However… “Will you tell me about the syntax of the Enochian word meaning Paradise?”

 

* * *

Sam felt good about having met Heylel at the coffee shop. He wasn’t sure he’d gotten answers about everything he wanted to know, but at the same time, that wasn’t entirely relevant. The one thing John Winchester had done correctly, was instill his children proper respect for the pregnant. The xenophobic bastard would have been specifying pregnant  _ ladies, _ but Sam wasn’t about to treat pregnant archangels any different.

 

They’d stayed long enough for both archangels to try just about every pastry the store had sold, but no one had expected Sam to pay for it. There was a small doggy bag of extra pastries on the table, including a box of pie for Dean. Sam had no idea what they were going to do with all the desserts because there was no way  _ he  _ was eating all of them. Maybe Gabriel would swing by and eat some of them.

 

“How’d it go?” Gabriel asked, lounging in the doorway.

 

“It was fun,” Sam answered. “There’s a bag of desserts on the table, take what you want. But please not Dean’s pie.”

 

Gabriel pouted, already looking through the leftovers. “Why does Deano get dibs on the pie?”

 

“Because we are  _ not  _ antagonizing my older brother?”

 

Gabriel settled for a blueberry muffin and shoved the top of the pastry into his mouth. “Learn anything interesting?”

 

“Besides the fact that at least one of your older brothers is pregnant? I don’t know. I definitely wasn’t expecting anything like what I saw from the Viceroy and his mate. I’m pretty sure they kept expecting me to ask about angel biology.”

 

“None of us actually know that much. I got Heylel to tell me what he knows, but the extent of our knowledge is that for any our kind to get pregnant, the baby has to be wanted. That’s all we know. Heylel is pregnant, but why did you say, ‘at least one’?”

 

Sam shrugged. “Not sure.” It wasn’t the entire truth, but Sam wasn’t sure he could explain the suspicion hiding in the back of his mind.

 

“Mikha and Heylel had a lot of fun today too. They wouldn’t stop talking about how you poured your drink on some scum’s head while defending their honor. But they were curious about why you were asking about the Enochian word for Paradise.”

 

“I know the apocalypse is over, but… there’s something about the way Cas was talking about English words that would mean the same thing. Change can be positive or negative, and what’s going on in Heaven is a change, and you’re very happy, which suggests it’s a good change, but I guess I’m worried about the other shoe dropping.”

 

“Enochian is a very old language with a very small vocabulary of words. That doesn’t mean that the future is going to suddenly worsen, Sam. We’re all very happy.”

 

“I know,” Sam said, wondering if maybe he shouldn’t have said anything about it. He was worried, but that didn’t mean he had the right to put all that on Gabriel.

 

Gabriel vanished the rest of the muffin and walked towards Sam. Sam flinched, not sure what to expect. If he’d disturbed Michael and Heylel with his questions, it was within Gabriel’s right to hurt him.

 

“Oh, Sam.” Gabriel pulled his intended into a hug. “I love you. I do wish you would tell me that you’re worrying.”

 

“Can’t help it,” Sam mumbled.

 

“I know, Sweetheart.” Gabriel sighed, but didn’t let go of Sam. “I do think that today was a success, and I’m so happy that it went well.” Gabriel kissed Sam’s cheek. “Do you want to watch a movie?”

 

“Yes!” Sam loved spending time with Gabriel and giving him reasons to stick around.

 

“Do you like the Bugs bunny cartoon? I wanted to rewatch it, see if it would be suitable for Samandriel, and of course we have to start at the beginning.”

 

Sam of course fell asleep while they were watching it, but Gabriel didn’t mind. Sam had been in a state of high energy for so long, it made sense that he would have trouble converting back to a lower state of energy. So he cuddled next to Sam and let the cartoon continue running.

 

* * *

 

Less a week later, Gabriel had mentioned in passing that there was a dog park a few blocks from the motel, so Sam had told Dean he was going for a run. He didn’t mention the dog park because he didn’t feel that doing so was necessary. The weather was nice for being the middle of April, warm enough for just the long sleeve shirt.

 

With the nicer weather, there were a good number of dog walkers at the park. Sam found a bench so that he could sit and watch without looking too suspicious.

 

“Hello, Sam. Do you you mind if I join you?”

 

The words were spoken about half an hour later without Sam noticing that the speaker had arrived.

 

Instead of speaking, Sam slid to the edge of the bench, making room for Heylel to sit. “How are you?”

 

“Baby was excited this morning, but I am well.” Heylel took the offered seat. “Yourself?”

 

“I’m also well,” Sam answered. “The weather is nice today and I wanted to watch the dogs. Do you like dogs?”

 

“I like all of creation,” Heylel said. “Including dogs. Dogs were always intended to be the companions of your kind. I didn’t really understand that in my youth, but my opinion has since changed.”

 

“I’m surprised you haven’t been referring to us as ‘mud monkeys.’”

 

“My memories of the beginning were altered when I was cast into the cage. My twin and I wanted to get Eve to eat the fruit of knowledge because our simple curiosity needed to know what would happen. But I ate the fruit before anyone else, and then I shared it with most of my flock.”

 

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry you were wrongfully cast out.”

 

“I’d like to think that the current situation is the best possible one, and that without all the wrong that happened, we wouldn't be here now. But today is a good and happy day, can we perhaps talk about something else?”

 

“Of course!” Sam nodded amenably. “Do you have a favorite breed of dog?”

 

Heylel considered the question. “There was a species of supernatural dog. Father created them to be our companions, and then decided He’d gotten them wrong, so he ordered for them to be destroyed. But not for the reasons He claimed. The ones that were vicious were such because He wanted them to be.” He shook his head. “It’s my fault Hellhounds as they are now exist, and I do regret that they’ve caused harm to you and yours but not as much as I should because I  _ had  _ to save my Ramsey.”

 

_ Of course _ Heylel’s favorite dog would be a hellhound. And if Sam found out Heylel’s dog was still alive, there was no way he wasn’t returning it. But before Sam could decide what to say about it, Heylel continued, “but you were asking about my favorite of humanity’s companions, not my own sweet girl.” There was more silence. “I’m not sure I can pick a favorite.”

 

They pet a few dogs that approached and whose owners’ said they could pet them. Sam was certain the dogs were attracted to Heylel, but it was kind of adorable and he got to pet them too.

 

“What happened to Ramsey?”

 

“She’s in Hell, I believe, imprisoned somewhere, undoubtedly.” Heylel shook his head. “I’m going to head back before Mikha gets worried.” He disappeared with a single wingbeat.

 

Sam sighed. He shouldn't have pushed. But he  _ was  _ going to get Ramsey back for Heylel. I could double as a bridal shower/ baby shower present. Not the most traditional present, but he was pretty sure that all the grace infused bedding he’d been receiving from Gabriel’s flock wasn’t traditional either.

 

But how was he going to break into Hell and release the alpha hellhound without getting killed was going to be an interesting challenge. But one that would likely have to wait.


	3. Crowley (Samael)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam has a panic attack in this chapter.

When Samuel Winchester set his mind to something, he followed through. So when he decided he was going to find Heylel’s lost Ramsey, it was a no brainer that he would spend a good amount of time researching ways to follow through.

 

But there wasn’t a lot of lore on how to get in and out of Hell, much less on how to find the mother of all Hellhounds and release her in the process.

 

So of course, when it seemed like he’d exhausted all possibilities, he started seeking out more knowledgeable sources, starting with some low life crossroad demons.

 

But no one knew anything. Ramsey was a myth, a legend, a hellhound alpha so deep in Hell that even their bosses had never actually been there.

 

And Sam was frustrated. It was still the middle of April, and he had no idea how long angelic pregnancies were supposed to last, and he just wanted to do something for Gabriel’s family.

 

“I had wondered what was driving the demons into a frenzy. Not sure whether or not it should surprise me that it’s you.”

 

Sam turned around. It was a testament to how calm the last month had been that he wasn’t instinctively reaching for a blade. Not that it would have helped much, given the fact that he’d  _ heard  _ the sound of wings, which had become a pretty common sound, lately.

 

“I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure?” he said.

 

“You can call me Samael, or Crowley, whatever suits your fancy,” he drawled. “I’m Heylel’s twin.”

 

Of course he was. Sam remembered  _ that _ from Cas’ quick rundown of their flock. “And you’re tracking what the demons are getting up to?”

 

The black hair man smirked. “Someone has to keep an eye on them. Why not me? They don’t have any idea who they’ve been dealing with for the last 6000 years.”

 

Sam had read Good Omens in college, so he had some idea what the angel was talking about. “Do  _ you _ know where I’d find Heylel’s Ramsey? I’d like to return her.”

 

Crowley shook his head, smirk shifting into a wry smile. “It  _ would  _ be you,” he repeated. “Okay. I’m bored enough to lend you a hand, and Gabriel will kill me if you attempt this by yourself and finds out that I didn’t either stop you or help out enough to keep you alive. But, you can’t tell  _ my  _ mate either, because I promised not to go back to Hell without backup. Then again, you could be my backup…. Never said it couldn’t be human backup.”

 

Sam blinked. “Can we go right now?”

 

“It would probably be better to do more research first, but I guess I don’t see why not. Do you have everything you need?”

 

“I think so. Do you think we’ll have to fight our way through Hell? I brought a blade capable of demons if you think I need it.”

 

“Always a good idea. We might have to ask for some directions first because I can only fly us into Hell if I don’t know where we’re going.”

 

“And who in Hell is going to give us directions?”

 

Samael smirked. “Not directions, per se… You’ll see.” He reached for Sam’s arm, and at the hunter’s nod, they were gone.

 

Sam could honestly say is was the most disconcerting flight he’d been on. For one, it took longer than the average instant that he attributed to angelic flight, and for another, he almost threw up when they hit ground and that had never happened before either.

 

“Sorry about that,” Samael said a moment later when Sam had caught his breath and didn’t feel like he was about to hurl. “I don’t usually fly with company and flying into Hell is always a bumpy ride.”

 

“Is okay,” Sam said. He blinked, trying to get a better look at where they were. If he didn’t know they were in Hell, he would have thought they were at some kind of mall. “Where are we?”

 

“Welcome to Retail Hell.”

 

Sam had no idea what Retail Hell was supposed to be. He had assumed all of hell was about physical torture. He voiced that sentiment.

 

“Are you familiar with Sartre? Azi’s so fond of books, which is how I know of him. Anyway, one of the more famous lines is ‘Hell is other people’. It’s regularly misunderstood, however, he isn’t wrong. Torture doesn’t have to be physical to be effective.”

 

“Do Dante’s works have any accuracy, then? In that not not all torture in Hell is the same, I mean.”

 

“Different types of Hell in various layers, with different tortures dependent on the evil-doers greatest sin. Yes, Sam, that is mostly accurate, if an incredibly simple comparison. Though Dante, of course, was not accurate as to all of the specifics. Not everyone finds physical torture the most breaking, and some people deserve other punishments more. This- This is Retail Hell. Customers tormenting cashiers, cashiers tormenting customers, and no one ever gets that one thing they think they need more than anything else in the world.” Samael was smirking, Sam was sure of it.

 

“And we’re here for information? How is that going to work?”

 

Samael’s smirk grew larger, and Sam was uncomfortably reminded that this Crowley had spent a few thousand years as a demon. One who ‘did not fall, so much as saunter vaguely downwards.’ “The bartering of inane facts for other equally inane facts is ancient. But it was my own invention that said activity should never produce those facts which one might give their life to learn. What better punishment for those haughty scholars who would spend their lives and afterlives seeking information that is not theirs to gain?”

 

“Do these scholars really deserve that kind of punishment?” Sam asked. He wasn’t sure what this archangel’s view on humans was, but he was asking because he wanted to understand. Sure, humans who deserved to be in Hell existed, but he wasn’t sure who had the authority to decide that kind of a thing.

 

“Sam, I understand that you have a strong faith in humanity, but so many people have been collateral damage in the long lived quest for knowledge and immortality. And many of them were murdered for what someone thought would be a “greater good”. Why should any one, human or immortal, get to decide that for the whole? The sheer  _ hubris _ . So the punishment shall fit the crime committed.”

 

“So how are  _ we  _ going to get the information that we seek?”

 

“One question leads to a thousand more. Even on Earth, the search for answers is fruitless. But we don’t need all the answers. We don’t even desire them. We’re looking for the Mother of Hellhounds. Her location is in Hell. It has to be, because Heylel thought she would be safe here. But the lowest of demons can’t remember her, are not convinced that she exists. Which means that for them, she’s become another useless fact. Which is what we want.”

 

Sam still wasn’t sure he understood what the point was, but he followed the archangel through the market square because he was almost convinced that Samael had designed this level of Hell, which meant that if anyone understood it and how to work it to their advantage, it would be him.

 

The market square reminded Sam more of the inside of a mall than a market square. They appeared to be outside, rather than inside, but there was a fountain and there were no people anywhere other than inside the stalls that framed the space.

 

Samael led Sam to a building with a sign that read, ‘Information’.

 

Sam wondered if there was a reason for the building to be so obvious. Then again, the torture wasn’t about being unable to find the location, and knowing you were in the right place might add to the punishment. To know you were in the place of information learning and being unable to learn that which you desired to know.

 

“Follow my lead,” the archangel whispered. “I have information if someone can tell me where Hellhounds come from.”

 

“They’re mammals,” someone answered. “Live birth. What is the origin of humanity?”

 

“They were created, just like everyone else. I want to know about the Alpha Hellhound, Ramsey.”

 

“You created this Hell, don’t you know you won’t learn anything useful here?”

 

Sam turned around, already reaching for the demon killing knife.  _ He knew that voice.  _ “Crowley,” he growled.

 

“Hello, Moose. It’s a pleasure, as always.”

 

“So you’re the little upstart who stole my name!”

 

“Not like you were using it well!”

 

It looked to Sam like the archangel was about to lunge for the demon. He didn’t really want to get in the middle of that, but at the same time, there were more important things than egos.

 

“And what do you know about Ramsey?” Sam asked.

 

“Lucifer’s Alpha Hellhound? She’s held deep in Limbo, not far from the cage. Good job, Moose, bringing about the one thing that puts everyone in danger.”

 

_ Don’t react,  _ Sam thought. It hadn’t been so bad in the end, and Gabriel had never been happier. That was worth something. It had to be.

 

“You don’t get to talk about my brother that way.”

 

Sam winced, glancing away as Samael actually punched Crowley in the face. He had been afraid the archangel was going to smite the demon, but he heard the distinct sound of bone breaking instead.

 

“He’s not worth it, Samael,” Sam said. “Let’s go find Ramsey.”

 

“I know the way.” The archangel swallowed then reached for Sam’s shoulder.

* * *

 

The flying this time was less abrasive than entering Hell the first time.

“You know the apocalypse wasn’t really your fault, right?” Samael asked after they landed. “It wasn’t. It was God’s. Seems that the love Mikha and Heylel share didn’t fit into the plan as He wanted it. That He really didn’t want us, or humans, to have their free will, in the end. But they deserve to be happy, Sam. And you deserve to be happy. Nothing else matters.”

“After everything I’ve done, do I really?”

“Gabriel loves you, and if you break his heart because you can’t see yourself the way the rest of us do, I will hurt you.”

“I’m not going to break Gabriel’s heart.” Sam  _ loved  _ Gabriel, and was sure that as long as the archangel still wanted him, he’d happily stay with him forever. “But I’m sure there’s a line to smite me if I did.” He gave the archangel a slight smile. “Protective older brothers never change. Let’s go rescue an Alpha Hellhound.”

Samael nodded, but before either of them could move, they heard baying so loud that the ground beneath their feet shook. As soon as the shaking stopped, the two of them hurried in the direction the sound had been coming from.

It didn’t take them long to find the hound chained to the side of a cliff overlooking limbo. They could also see the cage, though it was now empty.

“Easy, Ramsey,” Sam whispered as he approached. “We’re here to take you back to Lucifer.”

The hellhound was easily as tall as a draft horse, but she was lying on the ground and didn’t move to snap at Sam as he stepped within reach of her massive jaws.

The chains wouldn’t have broken with a normal tool, but Samael and Sam were able to carefully cut the shackles using angel blade and demon killing blade respectively.

  
  


“Let’s get you home to Heylel,” Sam said when they were done. “I bet he’d like to see you again.”

Ramsey barked. She stood up, stretching, and then laid down again in front of Sam.

Sam stared at the dog. “Don’t you want to go home?” The dog simply stared at him.

“I think she wants you to hop on her back,” Samael suggested. “She’s no ordinary dog, I’m sure she can bear your weight.”

Sam shrugged, but decided not to argue. He climbed on her back. As he wrapped his hands in her fur to keep from falling off, everything went dark.

This time, the feeling of traveling was even worse than Crowley flying him into Hell the first time. It was like riding an upside down roller coaster going downhill and spinning really fast.

There was a thud, and then he was falling and emptying his stomach. And it was still dark.

“Sam!”

Sam recognized the voice, but was still disoriented enough that he couldn’t place it and when he turned his head in their direction he still couldn’t see. He realized that was because his eyes were closed. He blinked dizzily.

Gabriel was staring at him, grinning happily, but there was also an underlying layer of worry clouding his face. “It’s great to see you, but what are you doing  _ here _ and with a Hellhound? Are you okay?”

“I…” Sam didn’t have an answer, instead stumbling forward, stretching his arms out with the intent of hugging Gabriel. He felt emotionally wrought and tears pricked at the corners of his eyes though he couldn’t have explained what the matter was.

Gabriel’s grin fell, excitement turning entirely to worry as he reached to steady Sam. “Sam? Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

Sam still didn’t know how to explain what he was feeling, so he decided to start at the beginning. Maybe Gabriel could make sense of it. He hoped so, he  _ trusted  _ Gabriel. “I.. I wanted to do something nice for Heylel and… he’d mentioned missing his Ramsey. Your brother, Samael, helped me, and it was not a bad trip, but…. But we ran into Crowley. The other Crowley, the one that stole your brother’s name. And he told us where to find Ramsey, which was good, but he… he started ramming into me about letting Heylel out of the cage. And I  _ know  _ he’s wrong because it was for the best, but… but I’m so tired of waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“Oh, Samalam,” Gabriel whispered. “The apocalypse was  _ not  _ your fault. Neither was the demon blood. Okay? It was  _ not  _ your fault.”

Sam whimpered, and Gabriel had to gently lower Sam to the ground as his body went slack. “Sam? Sam!”

Sam was  _ terrified _ . He couldn’t breathe and he could feel his heart pounding so hard in his chest that it seemed to want out of his body. The tears he’d been holding back would not be restrained and he knew he was trembling and sweating. He could  _ feel  _ Gabriel trying to get his attention and panicking behind him and that only made it harder to breathe.

Black spots danced at the edge of his already black vision. Was this was dying felt like? He didn’t want to die. He might have been too tainted to deserve the archangel, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t greedy. He  _ loved  _ Gabriel, didn’t want to lose him, even though he didn’t deserve any kindness from him. At least if he was going to die then he couldn’t do anything that might jeopardize the archangels.

  
  


“Gabriel? What did you do? No, move, I think your panic is worsening his.”

There was motion as the speaker knelt beside him. Sam curled up further because despite the nausea welling in his stomach he didn’t  _ want  _ to be helped. He just wanted to live out the consequences of his actions. As he deserved.

“Sam, I need you to inhale for me. You’re suffering from a panic attack and I need you to breathe, okay?”

It felt like an elephant was sitting on his chest, but he opened his mouth and forced himself to breathe in. He wanted to breathe, didn’t want to lie on the ground suffocating.

“That’s good, Sam. Can you hold your breath for a count of ten and then exhale?”

Sam followed the directions. The black spots in the dark faded, but the terror hadn’t dispitated yet. If he was in the middle of a panic attack, that made sense.

A second later there was something warm and soft brushed against his hands. His hands tightening instinctively around the fur.  _ He missed Bones. _

“That’s it, Sam. Just keep breathing.”

There was silence for a minute or two while Sam focused on breathing.

“Sam, do you know where you are?”

He had no idea where he was. He knew who he was with, Raphael, Gabriel, and Ramsey, but he had no idea where the hellhound had brought him. Did he really want to know? Hellhounds carried souls into Hell, what if it had brought him to the punishment he deserved for the wrongs he’d committed? His breath hitched again and what little terror had dissipated came back tenfold. Had the archangels joined him and Ramsey in Hell because this was it?

“No, no, I didn’t ask you to stop breathing again. Ramsey brought you up to Heaven and I just wanted to see if you knew that because not knowing where you care can cause greater panic. I’m sorry, maybe I should have thought that through better.”

A hand rubbed his back. Gabriel’s. “I’m sorry I scared you. I just wanted to tell you that I love you and that you are so much more than the things that have been done to you.”

Sam sniffled and reached for Gabriel. He just wanted to be held and loved.

Gabriel held Sam until after the remains of the panic attack faded. Sam didn't fall asleep, enjoying Gabriel's company too much for that.

When Raphael deemed Sam suitably recovered he said, “Are you ready to return Ramsey to Heylel?”

Sam blinked, finally remembering there was a reason he was there in the first place. “Yeah. I'd like that.”

The human climbed out of Gabriel's lap. He was a little unsteady on his feet, but Gabriel was right there to support him.

“Ramsey? Find Heylel,” Raphael said.

The hellhound barked and took off. Sam and Gabriel had to jog to keep up.

  
  


“Ramsey!” Heylel shouted when they were in a hallway up a flight of stairs. “Who's the good girl? Who is it?”

Ramsey bounded forward, and knocked Heylel over as she enthusiastically licked her master.

“That’s right! You’s the good girl, uh huh, uh huh.” Heylel laughed, reaching to scratch her chin. Ramsey kept licking Heylel, her entire body wiggling with the force of her wagging tail. She woofed happily at him.

Sam blinked at Heylel and Ramsey. In that moment, he didn’t see an archangel and a vicious supernatural creature. He saw a boy, albeit a pregnant boy, and his dog, too long separated.  _ The demon had been wrong. So wrong.  _ Lucifer, Heylel, might not have technically been a child anymore, but Sam would have bet his last dollar that he  _ had  _ been a child when he’d been cast out of heaven.  _ No one deserved that, and he especially didn’t deserve people insisting he  _ go back _ without evaluating whether or not it had even been the right punishment in the first place. _ Both statutes of limitation and time served had to mean  _ something.  _

  
  


“Sam? Are you okay?”

Sam breathed, inhale then exhale. “Yeah… Gabe? Can you take me home?”

“Of course.”

  
  


Sam wasn’t entirely sure how they came to be standing at what must have been the edge of Heaven, but they were. He and Gabe were standing with their backs to the front gate, and Mikha and Heylel were standing across from them, a few feet away. Ramsey laid at the feet of Heylel and Mikha, big sheepdog that she appeared to be.

“You don’t have to come with us,” Gabriel was saying. “I’m sure I can see Sam safely home myself.”

“I just wanted to thank him for bringing Ramsey back,” Heylel said. “It means a lot to me, Sam.”

Sam shrugged it off. “It was nothing, I’m glad she’s welcome.”

“Of course she’s welcome!” Mikha smiled. “Anything for my mate.”

Gabriel licked Sam’s cheek. It wasn’t any kind of kiss, it was literally a tongue. Sam blinked in confusion at his archangel.

“You’re mine,” Gabriel stage whispered. And then louder, to Heylel, “I licked him, he’s mine.”

Mikha rolled his eyes and Heylel said, “I.. didn’t want him?”

“Good, that’s good.” Mikha leaned forward to kiss Heylel’s ear. “You’re mine and I don’t share.”

“Okay, time to go,” Gabriel said.

  
  


As they were about to leave, Sam saw Samandriel running towards Michael, his small wings fluttering in agitation such that it looked more like he was bouncing than either running on the ground or flying. Tears were streaming down his face.

  
  


And then they were gone, flying out of Heaven. This was a better flight than flying with Crowley or Ramsey and Sam took a moment to appreciate the fact that his stomach did not feel the need to exit his body.

“Sam, you’re back! You can’t just leave for weeks without a note! It’s not cool!”

Sam blinked at his brother. “What? No, I was just gone a few hours, running and errands…

“Nope. Today is May the first. Next time you decide to take a vacation in Hell, please leave a note. I was worried sick.”

Dean walked over and hugged Sam. “I was really worried until Cas told me you were alive and well and just babysitting another archangel.”

“It was fun, but our Crowley is a dick.”

“And if it would make you feel better, we can shoot him with the colt if he sticks his nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Sam appreciated the words. They couldn’t really act on it in reality, but it was a soothing proposition. Dealing with the missing two weeks would probably come later. “Thank you. I haven't slept in two weeks, do you mind if I go lay down?”

“No, go right ahead. I’ll go pick up some food.”

Dean stepped out and Sam laid down. Gabriel sat next to Sam. “We should talk later, but do you want to watch a movie or something before you fall asleep?”

“Sure!” Sam adjusted the gray grace blanket Raphael had given him. He loved how soft and warm all the gifted bedding was.

They watched some cartoon Gabriel put on and it didn’t take Sam log to fall asleep in the arms of his archangel. This was peace.


	4. Mikha

Gabriel was still around as Sam woke up and the human smiled warily at his boyfriend who was holding a tray of food that smelled delicious. 

  
"Good morning, Samshine. Happy birthday."

  
  
Sam's smile faded, and he scowled. "Go 'way."   
  


"What? Sam-"   
  


"No, I don't want to celebrate." Gabriel looked like he might question him, so Sam continued. "Gabriel, do you have any idea any idea how many good birthdays I’ve had in the last 8 years? 4. If you can count John Fucking Winchester dying on my birthday as a good day.” Sam blinked, taking a moment to contemplate how fucked up his life was. “Let’s go through it, shall we? On my 19th birthday, I got my acceptance letter from Stanford and I wanted to go, so John Fucking Winchester said, ‘If you walk out that door, don’t you  _ ever  _ come back.’ And so I went to Stanford, met Jess, had three nice birthdays. And then what happens? Dad goes missing and Dean shows up. And you know what happened on my 23rd birthday? John chewed me out for not shooting him with the colt when Azazel possessed him. And you know what? I actually regret not doing it, because the next day, Dean almost died. The only reason he didn’t was because Dad worked something out so he died instead. So I guess that was almost an okay week. But it only goes downhill from there, because the next year, I died and woke up from a death that should have stuck to find out that my brother had sold his fucking soul, and he didn't get a full ten years, no, Gabe, he got one that would irrevocably end, again, on my birthday. And then, also on my birthday, Dean died, for all I knew, permanently gone. And do you know what happened  _ the next year after that?!  _ Dean decides to repeat,  _ word for word,  _ the phrase John uttered kicking me out. And then I killed Lilith and let Lucifer out of the cage. Which I guess ended up being for the best, but it still  _ hurt _ !”

 

“Oh, Sam,” Gabriel whispered. “I’m  _ so sorry. _ No birthdays it is.” He put the tray of food down on the side table. “Scoot over, I’m going to lay down next to you.”

 

Sam didn’t have the energy to tell him to go away, so he just shifted and as soon as Gabriel had laid down on the bed, curled up against the warm archangel.

 

At some point Sam had remade the bed with just the grace bedding Gabriel’s brothers had given him so far. Gabriel carefully wrapped around his intended the blanket Mikha and Heylel had carefully crafted for him. He shifted Sam in his arms, cuddling him, and then folded his wings around Sam. Sam whined, but he did not think it was a protest. “I swear that there will be no more bad birthdays,” he declared to the sleeping form.

  
  


Sam woke up from his second nap feeling absolutely famished. He nosed towards the solid shape next to him. “Gabe?” he croaked.

 

“I’m right here, Sam.”

 

“Is that breakfast still warm?”

 

“Yep!” Gabriel reached for it and they shifted so Sam was sitting upright with the tray in his lap.

 

The tray contained pancakes and some slices of fruit cut into bite sized pieces. Sam at it slowly. It was as delicious as it smelled.

 

“Is there anything you want to do today?” Gabriel asked.

 

Sam shrugged. What he really wanted was a quiet day, but he wasn’t sure beyond that. He didn’t want to dwell on the date, but he also wanted some alone time to process the last fortnight. “I didn’t have anything specific in mind.”

  
  


Sam slipped away as soon Gabriel’s back was turned because as much as he loved that his archangel wanted to spend time with him, the fact that he was cognizant of the fact that it was his birthday made it hard to stick around. So with a word that he was going outside for a second to get some fresh air, he slipped outside, and  _ ran. _

 

Jogging always cleared his head. It was like meditating, but a little easier because he could focus on the sound of his feet evenly hitting the concrete instead of the oppressive silence he would have been trying to create inside his head.

 

Sam loved Gabriel and enjoyed spending time with him, but he just  _ had  _ to clear his head. He didn’t want to think about how it this day was an anniversary of other bad things that happened throughout his life.

 

Out of breath, Sam stopped running. He wasn’t  _ tired _ , per se, but he had no idea what he wanted.

 

Looking around, Sam realized he had no idea where he was or how to get back to the motel from here. There seemed to be a coffee shop across the street though, and at the very least he could get a glass of water and ask for directions.

 

As he stepped inside the coffee shop, he heard the distinct sound of wingbeats right behind him, the set he recognized as Michael’s because there was always an extra hesitation between the first beat and the second one when the eldest archangel landed.

 

“Michael,” he greeted, even before he turned his head to confirm who he was greeting. “What brings you out here?”

 

“I was hoping for a bite to eat,” the archangel said. “And I wanted to thank you for returning Heylel’s pet.”

 

Sam shrugged. “You’re welcome?” He continued moving into the coffeeshop and let the archangel select a place for them to sit. “Do you want anything specific?”

 

Michael considered. “Chocolate. And something salty. With pistachios.”

 

There was nothing that any of the archangels could have said that would have dissuaded Sam from his belief that Michael was pregnant, but he wasn’t going to say anything about that because doing so would be rude.

 

He bought the salted chocolate bar, a chocolate cupcake, and pistachio gelato, and he paid for it with money in his wallet he couldn’t recall the source of. He also got a chai tea for himself and a brownie.

 

“But, Sam, I wanted a blueberry muffin.”

 

Sam got Michael the blueberry muffin, and the oatmeal raisin cookie, and the barista probably thought they were insane but there was no way that Sam was going to tell Gabriel’s older brother no.

 

Michael stared at all the food Sam had procured for him and his lip quivered.

 

Sam reached for Michael’s hand. “Michael, can you tell me what’s wrong? I’m not sure how to help if I don’t know what the matter is.”

 

“I’m not sure,” Michael said quietly. “We know for sure that Heylel is pregnant, but my own body seems to have decided to mimic some of Heylel’s symptoms.”

 

Sam was  _ really confused  _ about angel biology and their biological sexes (weren’t they genderless?), but he wasn’t sure that it would be polite conversation to ask  _ why  _ Michael had not considered the possibility that  _ he  _ was (also?) pregnant.

 

Sooner or later it would be straightened out, Sam was sure. And he could put up with Michael’s weird eating habits until that time because  _ you did not make anyone who might be pregnant angry _ . Never.

 

“I think it’ll work out, either way,” Sam said. “And there’s nothing wrong with giving your body what it wants in the meantime.” He looked at the collection of pastries on the table between them. “What do you want to eat the most?”

 

Michael leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands, which her folded on the table. “I seem to have lost my appetite. I’m sorry, Sam.”

 

Sam sighed, but not in irritation. “Michael-”

 

“Why won’t you call me Mikha? It’s my given name.”

 

“I’m sorry, Mikha. Mikha, I’m sorry if this is an intrusive question, and please don’t feel obligated to answer, but, have you considered that you might be suffering some of Heylel’s symptoms because you  _ yourself  _ are also pregnant?”

 

“I can’t be pregnant!” Michael’s exclamation drew strange looks, but if anything, the archangel just looked sad. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shout.” Michael looked at Sam, but the archangel took a moment to think about what he meant. “That’s not to say that I wouldn’t love that with every ounce of my being. If Rafa was more familiar with how our anatomies work and less likely to associate it with a past trauma, maybe I would ask, but as it stands, I don’t think that my anatomy is capable of child bearing, or so I’ve been told.” He sighed. “Heylel and I want our own children so much, Sam, and Heylel is currently very much in love with carrying our child, and I don’t want to do  _ anything  _ that might detract from that.  _ It’s my job to take care of them _ .”

 

Sam picked up one of the chocolate brownies and broke it in half with his fingers. “If you stress yourself out, you won’t be able to keep them safe.” He pushed half the brownie forward to the archangel. He could understand the need to keep one’s family safe. That was Dean to a T. “Eat the brownie, Mikha.”

 

“I can see why Gabriel likes you.”

 

Sam frowned. He hoped Gabriel wasn’t too worried about him.

 

“I told Gabriel I was monopolizing your time getting snacks for Heylel,” Michael said. “So he’s a little less worried about you getting into trouble, but he is also a little worried about why you ran off.”

 

Sam swallowed and took a sip of his water. “Today is my birthday, and I might not have remembered except Gabe brought it up, and Dean’s the only one who has ever tried to remember, so it’s mostly the anniversary of bad things happening rather than a day to rejoice.”

 

“Today should be a good day.” Michael nodded mysteriously to himself. “I don’t know when my birthday is, but I tried to make the creation day of the other archangels as good as I was able. My children will have birthday and birthday parties and know joy.”

 

“They should.” Sam drank some more water. “Gabriel and Cas have talked about angelic mate bonds a little, but I was wondering if you could tell me more about that.” He did his best to look casual rather than hopeful. 

 

“You’d be better off talking to Gabriel. I don’t know a lot. The main kind of mate bond finishes forming when the relationship is consummated. Our kind doesn’t really do marriage in the modern human way.”

 

“Consummation of marriage is an archaic human custom, and the emphasis on all parties being virginal was significant.” Sam’s brow furrowed with concern. “Is waiting to have sex until you’ve decided to have a mate bond a significant angelic custom?”

 

“No? I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ve explained it right. Another kind of relationship we have translates as bed-mates? There is less emotional connection and usually no children?”

 

Sam blinked. “Does Enochian distinguish between the act of sex as a means of reproduction and sex for any other reason? That sounds like a one night stand kind of thing.”

 

“I’ve never had a one night stand, so I wouldn’t know. I suppose I can’t see why it would preclude a mate-bond if emotional connection formed later. Mate-bonds don’t necessitate children, either, though. Rafa’s Sami was the first fledgling born to angels and he’s the only fledgling in Heaven right now, but I don’t know of any fledglings born since then.”

 

Hearing Mikha bring up Raphael’s fledgling reminded Sam that he had been crying when they had left Heaven. “Is Sami okay?” he asked. “He looked so upset last night.”

 

Michael sighed sadly. “He’s fine, physically. But he started babbling about a scared and hungry injured fledgling and it was near impossible to console him.” The archangel frowned. “He talks to Heylel’s unborn child, babbles about how happy and healthy they’re going to be. But this was different. He didn’t want to be soothed or held. Samael gave him some cookies eventually, I don’t know why, maybe to see if he could be bribed into calming down. He wouldn’t eat it though, just climbed into my lap, still sniffling, and made me eat it instead.”

 

“If there  _ were  _ other fledglings outside of Heaven, would Sami have any connection to them?”

 

“Sami is four or five thousand years old, and under perfect circumstances, should have been fully grown by now. But he’s not. The nephilim of old were always more powerful than their celestial parent, but as there are no other archangel children in existence, we have no way of knowing what to expect from one. It’s possible I’m overlooking something, but I  _ don’t  _ know.”

 

Sam didn’t quite understand how one failed to know if any second generation fledglings existed outside of Heaven, but he decided not to ask because Michael seemed to already feel as guilty about it as he needed to. Intent on changing the subject, he decided to mention the cambion they had met.

 

“Do you know of the cambion, Jesse Turner? Cas called him the antichrist.”

 

“I had not heard.” Michael considered the revelation. “Do you think I can meet him? I don’t mean any harm, but he will likely need some lessons in control and  _ please can I meet him,  _ Sam?”

 

“He didn’t want anything to do with us and ran away, but I guess if you want to go looking for him, I’m not going to stop you. Cas said he more or less disappeared off the face of the Earth though, so I wish you luck.”

 

“I will find him! But not right now, because that triple chocolate chip cookie looks  _ delicious. _ ”

 

As the archangel licked his lips and ravaged the cookie he was referring to, Sam couldn’t help but wonder if maybe the archangel was lying to himself. He wasn’t going to bring it up again any time soon because the archangel had already said exactly what he thought, but that didn’t mean Sam wasn’t going to keep  _ some  _ eye on him. If Michael spent every ounce of his energy taking care of his mate and the rest of Heaven,  _ who took care of Michael? _

 

“Unless there was anything else you wanted to talk about,” Sam began, “I think maybe it’s about time for me to head back to Gabriel. But I got a little lost walking out here, could you give me some directions?”

 

Michael waved a hand and all the leftover desserts packed themselves neatly into a very large doggy bag for Sam. “I can fly you back. Unless you would prefer to walk?”

 

“Sure.”

 

The flight back to the motel was not as disconcerting as the trip to Hell with Samael, but it was not as smooth as flying with either Castiel or Gabriel. Sam attributed that to the obvious delay in the second wing. “Did you suffer an injury to one of your wings?” Sam asked curiously as he opened the motel door.

 

Michael tilted his head. “Yeah… how did you know?”

 

Sam shrugged. “I can hear the delay when it moves, I think. I hope it feels better.” He watched as the archangel disappeared, and then walked inside. Gabriel was sitting at the table inside, a grocery bag in front of him. “Hey, Gabe.”

 

Gabriel turned to look at him, then stood up. “I’m not sure how you did it, but Mikha and Heylel has spoken that you’re going to be apart of our flock regardless of where our relationship goes. Which I think means they’re going to disown me if I break your heart. Not that I was planning on doing that, because  _ I love you, Sam. _ ”

 

Sam put the doggy bag on the table and then embraced Gabriel. “I love you too,” he said, planting a kiss on the archangel’s cheek. “If you’re not too busy, can we sit and talk?”

 

There was a touch of worry in Gabriel’s amber eyes, but he nodded. “Of course.”

 

The hunter sat cross legged on his bed, Gabriel sitting across from him. Sam scratched nervously at his wrist while he tried to figure out how to say exactly what he needed to say. “I asked Michael about the mate-bond because you and Cas have talked about it a little, but not in great detail and I had wanted to get some clarification in case I was misunderstanding.”

 

“Understandable,” Gabriel agreed. “Did it help?”

 

“I don’t know,” Sam sighed. “When you were talking about how Raphael was almost scandalized by Michael and Heylel consummating their mate bond, I was under the impression that that meant that they were both virgins before that.”

 

“They may have been, but I don’t think that matters a lot because I think the mate bond is more dependent on trust and honesty between all the consenting adults involved.”

 

Sam winced. “I’m not a virgin, you know that, right? And the last person I had sex with was Ruby,  _ a demon _ , and in retrospect it was gross and disgusting and thinking about it makes my skin crawl, but  _ I did _ .”

 

“Oh,  _ Sam _ ,” Gabriel whispered, understanding dawning on his face. “I thank you for your honesty, but you have  _ nothing  _ to feel ashamed about. The demon blood was  _ not  _ your fault. Ruby was a manipulation and temptation that you  _ did not  _ deserve and it changes  _ nothing  _ between us.” He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Sam’s torso and kissing his temples. “I love you and accept you for who you are, Sam, and I will spend the rest of our lives telling you that, even if you won’t believe me.”

 

Sam leaned into Gabriel’s embrace. Maybe this was what the road to forgiveness felt like. Maybe if Gabriel still loved him despite it, he could love  _ himself  _ despite his flaws. Maybe… maybe this hadn’t been so terrible a birthday after all.


	5. Aziraphale

To say that Sam  _ liked  _ the bedding the archangels had given him was an understatement. The blanket and pillow from Heylel and Michael matched, a double sided fleece blanket that was dark blue on one side and a soft brown on the other. The pillow from Castiel was yellow and black with a honeycomb pattern. And Raphael’s was a soft neutral gray. All the bedding had the same texture. It was soft, but not quite fleece, and everything was thick. Castiel had said that at least the one he had given Sam had been made with molted angel feathers, which made him think of down bedding. Except way nicer than anything humans had the capacity to make.

 

Sam was dwelling on the bedding at that moment because as soon as they had come into the new motel room, Dean had more or less stripped the second bed, piling  _ all  _ the mortal bedding onto the one that he had claimed for himself. “You have that pile of weird angel blankets, use that. This is all  _ mine _ .”

 

So much like he had been, Sam went ahead and made the second bed using just the archangel given bedding, and then he climbed under the almost  _ nest _ because it was warm and nice, so why shouldn’t he? Dean was nowhere to be found, as per the usual, and he wasn’t  _ tired  _ now, he just wanted to bask. So bask he did.

 

Sam got his five minutes of quiet peace.

 

“Hey, Samalam, I got you a present!”

 

Sam climbed out from under the pile of blankets. “Gabe? What do you want?”

 

“I noticed that my brothers all decided you needed a ridiculous amount of bedding, so I got you a bag of holding to put it in! It’s double sided, one for you bedding and one for your books. And since you’re so loathfully lacking in anything good to read, I got your collection off to a start with all of my favorites! We have here one boxed set of Artemis Fowl, one Complete Works of Shakespeare, Alice Through the Looking Glass, American Gods by Neil Gaiman, and Charlotte’s Web.”

 

Sam’s jaw dropped as he eyed the first edition copies of books he’d read, heard of, loved, or had been dying to read. “Gabriel… you didn’t have to.”

 

“But I wanted to! No stealing my fun!” The archangel sauntered over and joined Sam on the bed. “Go on then, what do you think?”

 

The hunter took the proffered books one at a time, running is fingers across the covers as though they might disappear at any moment. But they didn’t, and he flipped gently through a few pages before setting it down gently and taking the next. “Gabriel,  _ thank you _ .”

 

“You’re welcome! Okay, now for the bag of holding.”

 

Gabriel handed Sam what at first glance appeared to be a duffle bag. It had a zipper down the middle, extending across three sides of the bag. “Go on, open it! It opens like a book.”

 

With a raised eyebrow, Sam unzipped Gabriel’s supposed “bag of holding”. He’d played enough D&D in college to know  _ exactly  _ what that was, but he couldn’t figure out why Gabriel would refer to a simple duffle bag in that way. A place for all his bedding and all the books he ever wanted? That sounded just a  _ little  _ too good to be true.

 

The unzipped duffle bag looked like the inside of a suitcase. There was a thin covering over the left side and another over the right, so it was impossible to tell whether or not there was anything already inside the duffle. He leaned forward to brush aside one of the coverings.

 

“I don’t recommend falling inside, I didn’t include a ladder.”

 

Sam unfastened the covering of the side on the left. It didn’t  _ look  _ bottomless. But if Gabriel said it was, he probably wasn’t lying. He put the set of Artemis Fowl books inside to see what would happen. They seemed to fall down into the duffle, but he couldn’t  _ see  _ them clearly. “How do I get them back?” he asked.

 

“You reach inside and pull them out? It shouldn’t be difficult.”

 

“If you’re sure.” Sam wasn’t sure whether or not he believed the archangel, but he reached inside to see if that was the case.

 

“Oh! Have you ever been to the Library of Congress? I have some business to attend to in DC, I could drop you off?”

 

“That would be awesome!”

 

Sam barely had time to pull his arm out of the duffle bag before they were flying.  _ Could he have lost an arm? _

 

The duffle bag was still in his hand when they landed inside what must have been the Library of Congress. But it was zipped shut and nothing appeared out of the ordinary with it.

 

“I’ll be back, see you later?” Gabriel asked.

 

“Of course!” Sam had barely finished speaking before the Messenger was gone in a flurry of wing beats.

 

Sam explored the library. It had a vast collection in a multitude of languages and was the biggest library he had ever seen, by a large margin. Which made sense, if he remembered anything about how the collection was still expanding.

 

There was a list in his pocket, some things Dean wanted him to research about their next possible case. The resources this library contained was endless, and since he was here, he just  _ had  _ to use it.

 

Hours passed and Gabriel hadn’t returned yet. With the closing of the library approaching, he went to see exactly how one would go about checking out books. It might as well have been the national library, after all.

 

But no. Checking out books from the library was expressly forbidden to anyone who was not a high ranking government official, and it sucked.

 

He returned to the table he’d been working at to find that someone else had taken a seat there. The blonde man sitting across from where Sam had been working seemed perfectly average, though it seemed that he was wearing an expensive shirt underneath his long coat.

 

“Hello, Sam.”

 

Sam had thought he might know who the person was, but it was the lilting British accent that gave it away.  _ Aziraphale.  _ “Hello.”

 

“I was wondering if you might help me? Crowley helped me move my collection of books to Heaven, but there’s a lot of books here I haven’t had the pleasure of reading and I thought you might be inclined to help me abscond with them? There’s two copies of most of them, so you could take your pick of them.”

 

“I would love to help!” His conscience was probably supposed to be telling him that stealing was wrong, but this was an archangel asking  _ him  _ to help steal from a library and he honestly wanted to be involved with that. Why wouldn’t he? “Gabriel gave me a bag of holding earlier, do you think we should put everything in there?”

 

“I think that would do the trick. Everyone is in the process of leaving now, I can turn the power in this building off so you can clean the shelves off into the bag.” The archangel stood. “The name’s Aziraphale, but I assume you’ve guessed that already.”

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Aziraphale. I was hoping I’d get to meet you.”

 

The archangel snapped his fingers, darkening the building. There was a soft red glow from the emergency lights and emergency exit signs.

 

“I say we have about thirty minutes. Just clear everything into the bag, I’ll help.”

 

They cleared all the shelves of all the rooms into the duffle bag Sam had brought and the weight of the bag never changed. Just like a real bag of holding. What had Gabriel even  _ done  _ to the duffle bag that it worked like this?

 

They finished clearing the entirety of the Library of Congress into the bag of holding before the police ever showed, but Sam was certain that the archangel had to of used some grace to make the process go faster.

  
  


“What now?” Sam asked, when they were safely a few blocks away and no one suspected anything.

 

“Now? Sam, Sam. Now we sort the manuscripts. Come on!”

 

The archangel and the human ended up in a room in a hotel that Sam couldn’t help but belief was the fanciest hotel in existence. The room was cleaner than any hotel room Sam had ever stayed in. There were no questionable stains on the nice grey carpet or the stainless beige walls. The furniture was expensive, a matching headboard, dresser, two bedside tables, and a king sized bed Sam would have guess to be the most comfortable ever.

 

He frowned. “Why this luxurious hotel?”

 

“I happen to like it. And Gabriel insisted.”

 

Of course Gabriel had insisted. Sam was surprised the archangel never complained about the flea-ridden holes in walls that Dean always selected when they were hunting because they were cheap and out of the way.

 

“Lets sort those books. You can keep whatever you want.”

 

“But, don’t you not like parting with your books?”

 

Aziraphale smiled. “Did you not see how many books we collected? Go on, take what you want. I trust you to take care of them.”

 

Pouring the books from the bag of holding and onto the bed was not possible. So they tried taking a handful each to sort.

 

Sam knew he wanted the lore materials for researching their hunts. Azi opened the first book he came across and starting reading it instead of making a decision and Sam enjoyed the one section of the lore book so much he had to read more of it.

 

“I have the declaration of independence!” There was no response to Samael’s exclamation because Sam and Aziraphale were so deeply enthralled in the books they were reading they didn’t notice when he appeared, scroll in one hand and red pen in the other.

 

“Hey! Angel!”

 

Aziraphale looked up. “Hello, Crowley.”

 

“I heard someone stole the entirety of the Library of Congress. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

 

“They didn’t deserve it. Not if they weren’t going to share,” Sam argued, not looking up from the novel he’d fallen into and was enjoying immensely.

 

“But you can’t just take it from them. Couldn’t you have duplicated it instead?”

 

“And where would the fun have been in doing that?” Aziraphale asked. “We are having so much fun.”

 

Samael rolled his eyes. “As long as you’re having fun.” He walked towards the bed. “Find anything worth reading?”

 

“Did you want to read something specific?” Sam asked, reaching for the duffle bag.

 

“Anything will do. Although I’m always fond of prophets who think they’re writing fiction.”

 

“You can’t have the Winchester Gospels.”

 

“Already read them. Surely you can think of something more creative than that.”

 

“We’ll see.” Sam reached inside the duffle and then poked his head inside because it felt like a giant swimming pool inside a backpack.

 

That’s about what it looked like. There was almost not gravity inside the bag and the books were aimlessly floating around the inside of the duffle bag.

 

Sam wondered how hard it would be to build shelves along the edges with the fancy moving ladders.

 

“See anything?” he heard Aziraphale asked.

 

He saw so many books. How was he supposed to know what he was looking for beyond that?He had no idea how to determine what had been written by a prophet or would be interesting to an infinitely ancient archangel. There was no list of prophets in his head as there had been in Castiel’s.

 

Before he could select a title to show Crowley, a streak of yellow crossed the edge of his vision. It was not a book, appearing instead to be threads. He turned his head, eye attracted to movement.

 

Sam found himself face to face with a gigantic golden retriever shaped body pillow that was more realistic than any he had seen before. He reached for it, shocked by how soft the fur of the dog was.

 

He leaned back, tugging the plush towards himself as he backed out of the duffle bag. “Aziraphale,” he said, trying to keep his voice from breaking with  _ want _ . “Did you steal someone’s toy?”

 

“What? No. Only books. Why?”

 

“So why is this here?” He put the pillow on the bed even though he wanted nothing more than to keep her in his lap. But she didn’t belong to him, wasn’t his.

 

“I’m not sure, Sam. Does she have a tag?”

 

Sam didn’t didn’t move to check because he knew that if he touched her he wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation to keep her.

 

Aziraphale was on the side of the dog nearest the head, so he examined the blue color around her neck. As he shifted it, a small envelope fell out. “Sam Winchester,” the archangel read. “I do believe this is yours.” He held out the envelope towards Sam.

 

He hesitated. He wanted to read it, but he was also afraid it wasn’t real. Every day of the fantastical life of a courtship with an archangel he loved and meeting Gabriel’s siblings was one day closer to the possibility that none of this was real and he honestly didn’t want that day to come.

 

“Sam,” Aziraphale said quietly. “The letter hasn’t been tampered with. Just read it.”

 

Better to read it now than to build his hopes up and be disappointed about it, Sam decided and tore it open.

 

Inside the envelope was a piece of pale yellow stationary. The handwriting was beautiful and full of serifs written in bright gold ink. There was a red bow at the top with the ribbon continuing around all the borders of the paper. 

 

“Dear Sam,” the letter read. “I saw this stuffed dog at a store and instantly thought of you. I know you love dogs, and while your current lifestyle isn’t really stable enough to support a pet, I wanted to get this for you as a promise. I love you, Sam, and someday I will give you a real dog. Today might not be that day, but n the meantime, have this life size plushie as a symbol of my promise.”

 

Sam blinked. “Mine?” he asked, reaching to touch the soft fur of the pillow.

 

“All my brothers are saps,” Crowley lamented. “Where is my book?”

 

“You can read this one.” Aziraphale charitably handed over the book he had been reading. “Would anyone like a glass of wine?”

 

Crowley agreed vocally and Sam nodded after Aziraphale had poured a glass for Crowley and another for himself.

 

Sam sipped the wine slowly, fingers still scratching the body of the dog. She was  _ his _ . It didn’t matter right now that she wasn’t real. He had  _ a  _ dog.

 

“Where’s Gabriel?” he asked suddenly, awhile later when he was on his second glass of wine.

 

“I think he’ll drop by soonishly,” Crowley answered, looking up from the book he was reading.

 

“Oh! That means it’s time for presents!” Aziraphale snapped, refilling their wine glasses and summoning a package wrapped with blue wrapping paper.

 

“I heard that the other archangels didn’t wrap theirs so I wrapped mine because tearing the wrapping paper is the best part.”

 

Sam took the offered present and carefully untaped it so he could open it. The first item Sam pulled out was a folded blanket. It was as soft as the rest of the archangel given bedding and both sides were the same shade of green as Dean’s eyes. There was also a pillow of the same color. Underneath the bedding there was a book.

 

“I was just going to let you borrow a copy because I trust you to treat books well, but I realized a copy you can keep might be more useful to you.”

 

Sam gave the book a closer examination. “A basic encyclopedia of the Enochian Language?”

 

Aziraphale nodded. “I thought you might be interested in learning it.”

 

“Oh, absolutely! Thank you!”

 

“Hey! I thought we were just giving Sam bedding!”

 

Aziraphale turned his head, smirking. “But I had to out do you, you’re about to give him the best bedding.”

 

“You were supposed to accept your defeat gracefully!”

 

“Not on your life!”

 

Sam swallowed a mouthful of wine. He was still feeling pretty clear headed and wouldn’t have minded being just a little bit tipsier for this. He didn’t want to get plastered, or drunk, but a little tipsier would have been better.

 

“Crowley? Can I see what you made for me?” Sam didn’t want to be stuck listening to the two of the archangels bickering about who had brought him the better present when he appreciated absolutely everything all the archangel had given to him. He’d never been in a position to have bedding that actually belonged to him and it was  _ nice _ .

 

Crowley pouted. “But Aziraphale gave you nice bedding and an awesome book!”

 

Sam sighed. They were children. They really were. And he really didn’t want to deal with this, but someone obviously had to. “Samael, in February, do you know how much bedding I had ever owned in my entire life, that was  _ mine _ ?”

 

The archangel known both as Crowley and Samael shrugged. “How much?”

 

“Absolutely none. I even had to borrow linens when I was in college because I couldn’t afford to buy an entire bed set. I don’t mind that you’ve all given me blankets and pillows. They’re all different colors and they’re all warm and soft and I love all of them.”

 

“Really?” Crowley asked, looking dubious.

 

Sam nodded sagely. “Mhmm. So you should come here and show me what color you picked out.”

 

Crowley walked over, a stack of bedding appearing in his own hands as he approached. “I thought you would appreciate this color.”

 

Sam grinned sappily. This blanket and pillow set was an amber whiskey color that matched Gabriel’s eyes and they were  _ absolutely gorgeous. _ He hadn’t been lying about how nice all of the archangel bedding was, but  _ this set _ , this set was the best color.

 

He allowed himself to take another sip of his wine. There was a warm feeling in his belly that could probably be attributed to the wine, but he was also  _ happy,  _ and the only thing missing was Gabriel. Where was the love of his life?

 

“Gabriel?”

 

“He’s not back yet. Do you want to help me finish sorting the books?” Aziraphale asked.

 

Sam shook his head. He liked the golden amber bedding, but it wasn’t what he wanted to look at right that second. He  _ wanted  _ Gabriel.

 

He blinked and the room seemed to tilt sideways. Had he’d had more to drink than he’d thought? “ _ Gabriel _ .”

 

Why was he sad? He wasn’t  _ alone _ . Aziraphale and Crowley were here. Gabriel would come back, or so Aziraphale kept saying.

 

“I’ll put the bedding in your duffle for you,” Crowley said, sidestepping around Sam.

 

“Okay…” Sam’s voice sounded far away to his ear and the glass in his hand felt much too heavy. Was he drunk? It had been a good long while since the last time he’d been drunk. He associated the loss of control with the feeling of having been possessed and he didn’t like it.

 

What if Gabriel wasn’t coming back and the archangels had plied him with alcohol so he would forget?

 

He sniffed. He wanted Gabriel.

 

There was a hand on his elbow, and he found Crowley guiding him back to the bed. He didn’t resist. Maybe he should? He wasn’t sure.

 

“Please sit down, Sam. Gabriel confirmed that he’s on his way back. But I’m not sure why you’re all worked up.”

 

Sam wasn’t sure why he was either. But the alcohol probably had something to do with it. Why had Gabriel told Samael and Aziraphale that he was on his way back and not  _ Sam _ ?

 

The stuff toy golden retriever ended up in Sam’s lap. It was so soft, and Sam thought it smelled exactly like Gabriel.

 

Sam lost track of time, but Gabriel’s arrival in the room was far from quiet. “There you are, Sam! I was wondering where you’d gone.”

 

Sam tilted his head, which made the room rotate even more. “Aziraphale wanted to steal the Library of Congress and said this room was your idea.” His lip quivered as he recalled that Azi had used the word  _ insisted _ . “I’m sorry the bug infested rooms Dean rents aren’t good enough for an archangel.”

 

Sam’s voice was honest. Any significant other he might have had deserved better than what he could provide, but Gabriel was an  _ archangel.  _ One who deserved so much more than he capable of providing.

 

“Sam…” For a moment, the archangel’s vessel seemed to age ten years,  _ this was it, _ but then he squinted. “Sam, are you drunk?”

 

“Don’t know,” he slurred. “Hope not,” he added. He didn’t want to be drunk. Not after everything he’d been through. “Dad was a drunk. A’ mean drunk.” The expression on Gabriel’s face looked like pain. “‘M not!” he added hastily, wondering if that’s why Gabriel’s expression had looked worried. “Imma sad drunk.” He blinked. “Is that why I’m sad?”

 

“That’s… not unlikely.” Gabriel sighed. “Sam, do you want me to take you back home?”

 

Where was home? Sam wondered idly. He grew up sleeping in the impala on the road, but it was more Dean’s home than it was his. Dean remembered the home Mary had raised him, but he remembered nothing more than her burning on the ceiling. That wasn’t a home either.

 

Maybe home wasn’t a place. Maybe it was family. Gabriel, Castiel, and Dean.

 

He was so lost in his thoughts that Sam didn’t even notice that they were flying until they landed in the motel room Sam had started the day in. Gabriel was holding the duffle bag that presumably contained the new bedding and the books.

 

“Are you okay?”Gabriel asked. “Would you like some water?”

 

Now that Gabriel mentioned it, he was thirsty. “Yes please,”he said. What was okay? He must be, he was always fine. “I’m fine,”he said, sitting on  _ his bed _ . Or at least the one with all of his grace bedding on it. He reached for the calming gray pillow Raphael had given him.

 

“I don’t like getting drunk,” he told the pillow. It would be a good listener. “Don’t like any loss of autonomy. ‘Minds me of Ruby. Dean dying. Downward spirals.”

 

Gabriel brought him a glass of water and then urged him away from the pillow so he could drink it. “I love you, Sam Winchester,” he said as Sam drank the water. “Do you think you’d be able to sleep?”

 

“Maybe.”

 

Sam wouldn’t let Gabriel help him get ready for bed until after the new blankets and pillows had been added to the collection on his bed, and then they curled up under the covers. Gabriel was snuggled around Sam, who was holding onto the golden retriever body pillow.

 

And they slept. Nothing needed to be harder than that. 


	6. Castiel

When Sam woke up, he could hear Gabriel doing something out of sight, probably cooking. His mouth was dry and he really wanted a glass of water, but there was something else he needed to do more.

 

A dizzy spell hit him when he tried to stand up, but he remembered something he hadn’t done in a long time, so when he was sure he could stand up without falling over, he made his way over to where his laptop was sitting on the table.

 

It didn’t take more than a minute to find the webpage of the bank he’d used while attending Stanford, but it did take him exponentially longer to remember what his password was without getting locked out.

 

It was an account he’d started adding to when he and Jess had started dating, but after she’d died, he’d pretended it had never existed. He hadn’t even told Dean about the secret bank account. When one had only exactly what one needed to survive, putting a little aside in the hope of a better future had made sense.

 

And as he read the five digit account balance, he realized that it had paid off, even if he couldn’t spend it on the exact thing he’d originally opened it for. “Hey, Gabriel?” Sam’s voice cracked around the duel syllabic name and he swallowed hard. With the passive aggressive gift giving from all of Gabriel’s older brothers, and the fact that it felt like he was spending as much time with Gabriel’s brothers as with Gabriel, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was overstepping his bounds. But who knew what the future held.  _ Or what Gabriel might think. _

 

The number on the screen blinked,  _ taunting him.  _ “Gabriel?” he repeated, louder. With perfect clarity he could recall Gabriel mentioning that Mikha and Heylel had said something about wanting him in their family regardless of how Gabriel’s relationship with him went and it made him swallow even harder as he felt  _ guilt. _ “Gabriel, I need to talk to you.”

 

“I’m right here, Samalam.” And he was. At some point Gabriel had walked in and was standing directly in front of Sam. Sam didn’t think Gabriel had flown, hadn’t heard the sound of wings, but he definitely couldn’t remember the archangel walking in. “Sam, are you alright?” He was holding a glass of water, but otherwise nothing.

 

“I love you,” Sam stated, reaching, uncertain of whether he was reaching for the cup or for Gabriel himself. “I love your family, but I love you more.”

 

“Sam?”   
  


“I don’t know why all your brothers gave me more bedding than I’ve ever owned in my life or what they expect from me in return. And I don’t know… I don’t know why Mikha and Heylel told you that they wanted me to join their flock regardless of whether or not you and I have a mate bond, but I don’t want… I’m not trying to replace you. And I need you to know that I’m  _ not  _ cheating on you with Mikha and Heylel, I don’t know why Mikha wants to spend so much time in coffee shops, but Gabriel they’re  _ pregnant  _ and you  _ don’t tell pregnant people no. _ ”

 

Gabriel titled his head. “I’m sorry, Sam, I’m not understanding. Do you think that I think you’re cheating on me with Michael and Heylel?”   
  


“I spend so much time with them, isn’t that the logical conclusion? And I want to do something nice for them, they’ve both been having such a hard time with morning sickness and cravings lately, but I was wondering if you’d think it was too grandiose when I can’t even find you a better place to sleep than this.”

 

Gabriel put the glass of water on the table next to the laptop, and then sat down on Sam’s lap so that he could hug his beautiful but incredibly confused boyfriend. “ _ Sam _ . You could choose to sleep on the street or in a gutter and I’d still sleep next to you because I  _ love you _ . I don’t know what Aziraphale may or may not have said, but it absolutely does not matter to me  _ at all  _ that this is what you currently call home because it’s just a  _ place,  _ Sam. You are  _ flock _ . To all of us. That’s the most important thing. So why don’t you tell me what you were thinking about treating Mikha and Heylel to, and I’ll tell you whether or not I think they’d like it?”

 

Sam sniffled and leaned forward to nuzzle at Gabriel’s shoulder. “Do you think they’d like a couple’s retreat at a pregnancy spa?”

 

“I think they would both be absolutely joyed by that kind of a surprise. Why don’t you book it for the beginning of June, and I’ll clear it with Raph?” Gabriel kissed his boyfriend on the cheek. “Do you want to talk about why you want to do this for them?”

 

Sam worried his lip, then nodded towards the computer screen. “Jess and I were engaged, and we’d talk about whether or not we wanted children someday (yes) and I read  _ everything  _ I could about pregnancy. And I’d decided, right from the beginning, that even if we couldn’t afford a lot, I was going to treat her to a spa day that would be safe for the baby. I know you and I haven’t talked about whether or not we want children, but your older brothers  _ are pregnant  _ and I want to do this.”

 

Gabriel hugged Sam. “That’s very thoughtful of you.”

* * *

 

The last few weeks of May flew by relatively quickly for Sam. Between hunting with Dean and going on dates with Gabriel, it seemed as though he was always busy with one thing or another. And he’d never been happier. If anything, he couldn’t imagine  _ being  _ any happier. This was the life he’d never imagined it was possible to have. He didn’t have to choose between hunting and his significant other and he wasn’t really putting Gabriel in danger with his hunting lifestyle because Gabriel was an immortal being who could definitely hold his own.

Sam saw plenty of the other archangels too, though Raphael was the one he saw the least of, which made perfect sense to Sam because the healer was likely busy making preparations for the birth of Mikha and Heylel’s child, or so Sam assumed.

The archangel he saw the most of was Mikha. Sometimes he was in the company of Heylel, and sometimes by himself, but most of the times he dropped by was to ask Sam to ply him with coffee shop pastries. There would still be no convincing Sam that Mikha wasn’t pregnant, but the archangel had seemed a little more emotional lately so Sam had decided that at the very least, he could try to offer what support he could,since it seemed Mikha was convinced he had to single-handedly support the rest of his flock.

It wasn’t a surprise and it didn’t bother him that he almost never saw Castiel when the archangel was not in the presence of Dean. Even though neither had said anything outright, Sam was about 95% sure they were dating, even if Dean’s head was so far up his ass he hadn’t figured it out yet. It was none of his business and he didn’t care, beyond being happy for his older brother.

What did come as a surprise, was at the end of May when Castiel showed up in the same vicinity as Sam at a time when Sam was sure Cas had just been with Dean.

Sam was sitting at a coffee shop picking through the deserts Mikha had only moments before abandoned in favor of returning to Heaven when Castiel appeared in Mikha's recently vacated spot.

“Cas?” Sam blinked at the archangel. “What brings you by?”

“I asked Dean if he had told you, but his answer was that it was none of your business, one way or the other. I’m inclined to disagree, if only because you and Dean are the human equivalent of  _ flock _ .”

Sam was pretty sure he knew what Castiel was talking about, but decided that Castiel would make a lot more sense if he wasn’t being so vague. “What isn’t any of my business?”

“I am trying to court Dean.” Sam raised an eyebrow. He was used to the almost archaic way of speaking most of the archangels used when discussing things like mate bonds and dating. But Cas must have mistaken Sam’s raised eyebrow because he said, “Do humans not say that anymore? I meant dating, I think.”

“We do call it dating these days, rather than courting. But I think that maybe the difference between the two is significant enough that the word courting would fit.”

“Perhaps. Anyway, Dean said your opinion was irrelevant, but angelic tradition insists that it is proper to discuss the developing relationship with the other flock members of the desired mate, especially in cases where the smaller flock is completely joined into the larger flock. Which I guess is the case here because Gabriel isn’t the only one who wants you to join our flock.”

“Where are you going with this?” Sam thought he understood what Cas was saying, but he wished his friend would speak in clearer terms.

“I want your permission to pursue a matebond with Dean Winchester. Dean as much as said he doesn’t need it, but I would ask for your okay.”

Archaic relationships. Sam couldn’t help but imagine Castiel, or even Gabriel, asking John Winchester for permission to marry his sons and he couldn’t help the laughter of hysteria bubbling in his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked, finally seeing the hurt expression on Castiel’s face. “I’m not laughing at you, and of course you have my permission, even though as Dean said, you don’t need it because it’s none of my business. I’m laughing because I’m imagining you or Gabriel asking Dad for our hands in marriage, when he’d sooner fry you both in holy oil.” 

“Wasn’t John Winchester not part of your flock, as our father was not part of ours? Michael and our siblings raised all of us,  _ he’s  _ the flock leader, with Heylel. Is Dean not  _ your  _ flock leader?”

Sam blinked. “Bobby Singer,” he said, almost without realizing it. “He’s been more like a parent to us than John ever was.”

Cas nodded. “Michael and Heylel mentioned wanting to visit him, I wonder if that’s why.”

Sam swallowed and scratched at his wrist. When had they last visited Bobby? What if he didn’t take the visit from Mikha and Heylel well? He’d liked Cas well enough, but what if he decided he’d had enough of dealing with the apocalypse and divine beings? What if he-

“Sam? Your heart rate and blood pressure have spiked significantly, are you okay?”

Castiel’s words cut Sam off from his spiraling train of thought and he blinked at the angel as he tried to calm down. The archangels would have said something before they would have run off to see Bobby. Asked if either of the Winchester boys wanted to go with them. Right? He counted mentally as he tried to get his nerves under control. One. Two. Take a breath. Three. Four. Five. Why did it hurt to breath? If  _ anything  _ had happened, Bobby would have called them. He would have called them.  _ He hoped _ . He had to believe that. His thoughts spiraled. What if he hadn’t? What if. What if he couldn’t? What if Bobby couldn’t call them because something had happened, and he wasn’t able to. He couldn’t. 

The world around him, outside of his own mind became blurred and indistinct.

“Sam?”

“Sorry- I’m sorry.” Sam coughed. Bobby hadn’t tried to do anything to Mikha and Heylel, had he? Circles of holy fire disoriented the angels at the  _ best  _ of times, what would they do to pregnant archangels? Was that why Mikha’s morning sickness had been worse lately? And Heylel-

“What is going on-”

He’d stopped counting. He needed to ground himself. Right? Nine. Ten. Eleven. Try and take another breath. Why couldn’t he breath? His lungs didn’t seem to be working. His hands felt clammy, his throat was tight. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Nothing seemed to be working. He couldn’t. He didn’t seem to be able to. His throat began to climb it’s way up his throat. Fifteen. Sixteen. He couldn’t. 

Sam threw up.

Someone had hastily conjured a bucket so Sam did not throw up on the table, but that didn’t stop him from sinking down in embarrassment.

“Sam, what happened?” Gabriel asked.

The bucket disappeared and Sam reached for his glass of water while pointedly not looking at his boyfriend. He had no idea when Gabriel had suddenly appeared next to him, but since he’d been the one to speak while he’d been spiraling, probably about then.

What even had happened? Sam wondered. Or at least, what did Gabriel, or Cas, think had happened? “I panicked,” he said. “It’s fine, I’m fine. You can go back to your Very Important Work.”

He missed the time when he’d been able to take anti-anxiety medication, but that was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Not without Dean getting unnecessarily involved and he couldn’t stand the thought of suffering through more of Dean’s distrust. He just  _ couldn’t _ .

Gabriel might have said something but Sam wasn’t sure. His head felt like it was surrounded by fog and he just felt sick.

“Sam, did you ever have any panic or anxiety attacks before the one in Heaven?”

Sam shrugged. “In college, sure. Jess made me see a psychiatrist and I was on medication for awhile. It helped. But then Jess died and I left Stanford and Dean couldn’t  _ know _ .”

“So you just went cold turkey off whatever you’d been taking?”

“It was a bad idea,” Sam admitted. “But I dealt with it and got through it.”

“You shouldn’t have had to.” Gabriel sighed and took a look at the desserts on the table. “Are you ready to go? Is there anything here you want?”

Sam shook his head. Taking the goodie bags of Mikha’s leftovers had started making him feel guilty and he wasn’t sure why. “Mikha should have them. And yes, I am ready to go.”

Gabriel flew them back to their current motel. Cas was nowhere to be seen and Sam felt guilder about causing him to leave. Sam had landed so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed and he was glad because he was sure that he would have fallen if he’d tried to stand.

“Would you want to talk to Raphael about maybe getting a new medication for your anxiety? I’m sure he could create something that would be designed for your physiology.”

Sam shifted and laid back on the bed. What did he want? He didn’t necessarily want to need medication to function normally, but he also knew better than to assume he could make the anxiety stop without it. But what would Dean say?

Maybe as long as he told Dean the truth and didn’t lie about it, maybe Dean would be happy that he was happy and healthier?

“No promises,” Sam said. “But maybe I could just talk to Raphael about it? There’s nothing wrong with just talking.”

“You’re absolutely right about that.” Gabriel turned. “Would you be up for babysitting Sami for a few hours? I imagine you’re exhausted, but Sami is too and it sounds like he’s fighting naptime.” Gabriel smiled sadly. “He’s been like this for weeks now. He’s been going on about lonely and hurt children, but at the same time, he’s also clearly not talking about Heylel’s baby, so none of us can figure out why he’s so distraught. But it’s starting to reach the point of affecting Mikha and Heylel and the baby so if we could give them a break, they’d appreciate it.”

“Okay.”

Sam had barely gotten himself ready for bed by the time Gabriel returned with the agitated fledgling.

“Hey, Sami,” Sam said.

The fledgling grinned and jumped on the bed as soon as Gabriel put him down. “Sam!” Sami settled in the hunter’s lap and Gabriel joined them.

“Do you want me to tell you a story?” Gabriel asked when Sam and the fledgling looked as settled as they were going to get.

“No naps!” Sami shouted.

“No naps,” Sam agreed. “But we are going to sit here quietly because I had a long day, and I’d like to hear Gabriel’s story.”

“Okay.”

It came as no surprise when both the human and the fledgling were sound asleep before Gabriel had been speaking for more than a minute.

* * *

 

“If you wanted to go, I could keep an eye on them until they wake up,” Raphael offered when he dropped by a few hours into the nap.

“I was hoping you could spare a few minutes to talk to Sam later. He had an anxiety attack while he was talking to Castiel earlier and mentioned that he took something for them in college, but hasn’t since.”

“I might have a few ideas, but are you sure he even wants to be medicated? Or that he’d want  _ me  _ to do it?” Raphael asked. “I’m not drugging anyone who isn’t walking into it with both eyes open.  _ Not again _ .”

“I didn’t say anything about drugging. I asked him if he’d want to talk to you if you were up for it, and he said yes. Besides,  _ Rafa _ . You’re the only one who hasn’t decided whether or not you like him yet.”

“I gave him a token, just like everyone else. What more do you want from me? Your already have a majority.”

“I want  _ your _ honest opinion, Rafa,” Gabe said. “Not what you think I want to hear. Cas has known him the longest and can’t get through an entire conversation with him without causing a panic attack. Mikha and Heylel are  _ really biased  _ because of the pregnancy hormones and Crowley is going to pick whatever’s in his twin’s best interest. And I think Azi drugged Sam, but whatever he learned from it seems to have pleased him, but that doesn’t mean his is the opinion I value the most.”

“What more do you need to know?” Raphael asked. “You’re in love, Sam’s love, he’s good with Sami, he’s not going to hurt you, and he’s not afraid of dealing with a pregnant Heylel. And even if he  _ is  _ incorrectly convinced that Mikha is pregnant, I don’t see any problems with that unless he’s only being good for them because he  _ thinks  _ they’re pregnant.”

“Rafa, it’s been almost two months and Mikha’s and Heylel’s surprise visits have  _ all  _ gone well. No one is that good at acting.”

Raphael turned his head, his gaze turning to Sami, who was sleeping peacefully in Sam’s lap. “Do you know how long I was in a relationship with the seraph that assaulted me?”

Gabriel swallowed and shook his head.

“A century. An entire century. And not once did I ever suspect that there was anything wrong.” Raphael shifted, huddling in on himself. “I know I have to deliver Heylel’s baby,  _ I know that,  _ but what if I can’t? I was so scared when I gave birth. I had to hide, and I couldn’t tell  _ anyone  _ and it hurt so much, Gabby.”

Gabriel looked down, glad that Raphael wasn’t looking at him. “You can do it, Rafa.” The  _ You have to _ , went unspoken. There was literally no one else who could deliver an angelic baby.

“Thanks, Gabby.”

* * *

 

When Sam woke up from his nap, Gabriel and Samandriel were both gone. But sitting by the wall was the archangel he had met the least. Raphael. He sat up. “Dean was always telling Cas how creepy it was that he’d watch us sleep, but I have to admit that I’m a little surprised to see you here.”

“All of my brothers are happy, and I want very little more than that. I swear that if you hurt  _ any of them _ I will kill you, oath to do no harm be damned.”

“I… wasn’t planning on hurting any of them?”

“Good, that’s good.” The archangel nodded. “Gabriel said you wanted to talk to me about something, but it’ll have to wait because I need to be getting back to Heaven to check on Heylel. But there’s also something I would like you to do for me.”

“Uh, sure. What do you need?”

“I want you to teach my son, Samandriel, to swim.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be warned that Raphael's past sexual assault is discussed in this chapter.

It turned out that what Raphael had meant was not that he literally wanted Sam to teach Sami how to swim. Later, Gabriel explained that what Raphael  _ really  _ wanted was to see for himself that the hunter was  _ good  _ for the fledgling. Raphael had been through a lot in the last six millenia, and he was just trying to do what was right for his fledgling.

 

Raphael had ended up agreeing that the spa week Sam had suggested for Michael and Heylel was a really good idea. None of them knew how long a typical archangel pregnancy was supposed to last, and there would come a point when it wouldn’t be safe for them to continue leaving Heaven.

 

So the two eldest archangels were surprised by Sam sending them “somewhere” for a getaway retreat at the beginning of June.

 

“I borrowed a waterpark,” Gabriel said on Saturday when there was half a week left of the spa retreat. “Raphael deserves a break himself, so as much as this is for Sami, it’s for him too.”

* * *

 

They went to the waterpark on Sunday. Dean and Castiel thought it would be fun to join them, and there was a hotel on the premises where they could all stay.

“Good morning,” Raphael said when he and Sami met the at the pool on Monday. Raphael was wearing shorts and a t-shirt and Sami looked like a normal six year old with red swim trunks and blue arm floaties with fishes on them. The only thing unusual was his pale green wings, but Gabriel had promised no one would be able to notice  _ and  _ he’d rented out the entire park.

Sami was holding Raphael’s hand and as soon as he saw Sam, had pulled away and ran towards the adult. “Sam!” he shouted.

Sam crouched, holding out his arms for the fledgling to jump into. “Hey Kiddo,” he said, picking Samandriel up. “How are you?”

“I’m great!” Sami answered.

“Are you excited to go swimming?”

Sami’s grin faded as he looked over Sam’s shoulder at the pool. “That’s a big bath.” His wings stirred in agitation. “No wet wings.”

“I had an idea about that,” Raphael said, walking towards them. “Do you want me to put a waterproofing ward on your wings?”

“You first,” Sami said. “Please demonstrate?”

“I can do that. Sam? You’ll need to close your eyes.”

Sam knew why he had to close his eyes. Sami’s were the only wings he could safely process without going blind, or worse. But that didn’t stop it from aching when the blinding light scratched at his eyelids. He wanted to see Gabriel’s true self, and maybe Gabriel’s siblings, if only because the future implied he’d join their flock completely and he didn’t even know them all entirely.

Maybe someday.

The light faded and Sami was giggling. Opening his eyes, he saw that there was a bit of water near Raphael’s feet, but he appeared dry. So the ward must have worked.

“Does Sami need a life jacket?” Sam asked as Raphael traced an Enochian sigil on Sami’s shoulder.

“I think it’s a good idea,” Raphael agreed. A second later Sami was wearing a life vest that was blue with detailing the same color as Sami’s pale green wings.

“Are you ready to play in the water?” Sam asked.

“Yes! Down! Down!”

Sam let Sami down and the fledgling ran to the edge of the water before stopping right at the edge of the stairs into the water.

“Go on,” Sam encouraged when Sami hesitated. “It’s a nice temperature.” Sam walked to the stairs and since the fledgling still hadn’t descended into the water, he walked down the stairs.

Sami stared wide eyed at the submerged stairs then looked up at Sam.

“Can you put one toe in the water for me?” Sam asked. “It won’t hurt you. Raphael and Gabriel are right over there and I’m right here, where I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

“Okay.” Sami lifted his right foot and put just his toes in the water to test it. The water was a nice temperature and it didn’t bite him, so he put his foot on the stairs. Then he took another step and another until he was in the water. He was tall enough to touch the bottom of the 3ft deep area, but with the life jacking he was floating a little higher up.

“Now what?” Sami asked.

“Now we teach you to swim.”

Sami had more fun splashing around in the water than actually learning how to swim (which surprised no one) but they  _ were _ having fun. Sam and Gabriel splashed around in the water with the fledgling and Raphael sat on the edge of the pool with his legs dangling in it while he watched them.

  
  


They spent the next few days swimming and going on water slides and generally exploring the park with at least one adult keeping a very close eye on Sami at all times.

Wednesday after lunch found Sam standing at the edge of the pool while Dean and Sami splashed around in it. Raphael was sitting cross-legged on the concrete a few meters away, staring unfocused at the sky. Sam had been considering whether or not he was ready to talk to Raphael about his anxiety, but he also didn’t want to disturb the Healer so he was mostly ignoring him in favor of staring out along the water.

“Sam!”

Sam turned quickly when he heard his name. He couldn’t place the tone Mikha was using, but he also knew that a moment ago neither Mikha or Heylel had been present. Both Michael and Heylel were standing further behind Raphael and they both looked  _ radiant _ . And Mikha was  _ running  _ towards him.

The deck next to the water was wet and Sam’s foot slipped. Surprised by Michael’s quick movements towards him, he was unable to catch his balance as he slipped, and tumbled into the pool.

“Sam!”  _ Dean _ .  _ Panicked. _

Sam’s back hit the water, the impact forced the air out of his lungs, and he felt his head “crack” against the bottom of the pool in the shallow water he had fallen in. By the time he could remember how to breathe, his head was already submerged and he was inhaling water.

Sam could see Michael through the water and could not place his panicked expression. This was supposed to be a safe place. Were they under attack?  _ He couldn’t breathe, but he had to go help. Why was he sinking? Why was everything turning black? _

* * *

 

Michael pulled Sam out of the water and laid him on his side on the deck. “Rafa? Is Sam okay?”

Raphael had started for the edge of the water as soon as Sam had tripped and knelt beside Sam. “Sam’s going to be fine, but he’s unconscious right this second so he’s not okay yet.” He placed a hand on Sam’s chest to vanish the water he had inhaled and repair the damage done to his lungs and vocal cords by the chlorinated water. He also made sure the hunter didn't have a concussion from hitting his head.

Dean left Samandriel with Castiel and swam across the pool to the deck Sam was lying on and climbed out of the pool. “What the  _ hell  _ were you thinking,” he growled at Michael, keeping his posture rigid but non-threatening because he wasn’t about to scare the fledgling.

“Dean, stop,” Sam mumbled as he blinked the dark spots out of his vision. He forced himself into a sitting position despite the dizziness it caused. “What happened?”

“You don’t get to defend him, you nearly drowned. If Samandriel weren’t here, I’d have stabbed him by now.”

Sam bolted to his feet and stood unsteadily but firmly between Mikha and his brother. “You can’t!”

“Why the fuck not? You could have drowned!”

“Dean, please settle down. I’m sure that Mikha meant Sam no harm. Sam, please sit down. I repaired the damage to your lungs, but you still almost drowned less than five minutes ago.”

Dean pouted. “He hurt my brother!”

“And what do you suppose I might be capable of if you were capable of and intended to hurt one of mine?

Before anyone could say anything else that might worsen the arguing, Sam doubled over coughing.  _ He couldn’t breathe. _

“Sam!”

_ Why was Dean shouting? Why was Dean always shouting?  _

“Go play with Sami, Dean,” Sam insisted, even as he was gasping to fill his lungs with air. “You’re disturbing the peace.”

“But Sam-”

“ _ Go _ .” Sam sat, still trying to breathe freely as his brother finally listened, still sulking, but wandered off to leave them alone.

Sam was finally managing to take in some regular breaths into his still sore lungs. Michael hugged Sam, which didn’t surprise the human as much as it would have weeks earlier. “I’m sorry for causing you to fall in. I just wanted to thank you so much for sending us on that retreat. We had so much fun!”

Sam smiled. “Good!” He sighed. “Why don’t you and Heylel go splash around awhile?”

“Okay, Sam.” Michael let go of Sam and walked away.

Sam watched as Michael led his mate over to the part of the pool with the very shallow end so they were only ankle deep and then continued holding Heylel’s hand as they splashed around. He looked out into the water and smiled. Everyone was having fun, and that made him happy because it meant that everything was going the way it was supposed to be going.

Raphael allowed Sam to sit in silence for awhile, but eventually it had to come to an end and he sat down beside the human.

Sam sent a curious and questioning look at the Healer. “Hey, Raph. What’s up?”

“We haven’t had much of an opportunity to chat, and I had hoped with this trip that we might be able to rectify that. My brother is very much in love with you and I don’t see that changing, in which case I suppose the eventuality is that you’ll join our flock, and I feel it is necessary to clear the air first.”

“I hope that I haven’t done anything to offend you? I had thought you were staying away because Mikha and Heylel needed your more focused attention.”

“Yes, but not entirely. I’ve been avoiding you because I need to be honest with you, but I wasn’t ready to be honest with myself.” Sam didn’t say anything, allowing Raphael a moment to gather his thoughts before continuing. “Samandriel is my fledgling, and I was a little worried that if you knew how he came about, you wouldn’t be as good with him as you are. With Mikha and Heylel being  _ so ready  _ to have a fledgling of their own, it’s been difficult for me to separate my own pain and hurt from the concept that  _ I’m  _ the one who is going to have to deliver Heylel’s baby.”

“I’m not sure I understand what else you’re trying to say.”

“I love Sami, and I wouldn’t give him up again  _ for anything _ . But he was created because someone I was close to betrayed and assaulted me. I am what I think humans would call aromantic and asexual, but there was a someone I thought I could happily spend the rest of my life with. I was mistaken. It was decades after I was the only functioning archangel in Heaven so my pregnancy was a difficult time for me. I didn’t have anyone to confide in and I had to keep it a secret and I had no one to help me, not even when it was time to give birth.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Sam said, quietly.

“Heylel tried to ask me for fertility advice a few months ago and I reacted poorly. I know they’re both happy and that their fledgling is going to be well loved, but…”

“But thinking about them having a fledgling is bring up the emotions you buried when you were carrying your own?”

Raphael nodded.

“Look over there, at Michael and Heylel. What do you see?” Sam asked.

The archangel looked and tried to see what Sam wanted him to see. He saw the two oldest archangels standing in the ankle deep water. Michael had his arms on Heylel as the second waddled and splashed. He could see their brightly painted fingernails and toenails and how  _ radiant  _ they both looked, especially Heylel.

“I see the two archangels who worked together to raise me. They’re happier than I’ve seen them in my entire life,” Raphael answered.

“As I’ve gotten to know Mikha, I’ve come to understand that they want that fledgling Heylel is carrying more than anything they’ve ever wanted in their lives. I see a doting Mikha pampering Heylel and making sure everything is just right. They’re happy, and healthy, and eventually their babies are going to need to be born. It may have been a very terrible and scarring experience for you, but you’re their Healer and they’re going to need help.” Sam looked at him with kindness, and a wisdom that Raphael felt was beyond his years. 

“Because if I don’t help them, it could be just as terrible for them as it was for me,” he concluded.   
  
“I’m not convinced the two experiences should be compared. I merely meant that you’re the only one with the know-how of what’s going to need to be done and perhaps you’ll have some insight on how to make it less painful.”

“Suppose that you are correct.” Raphael looked back at Sam. “Thank you.”

“Was there anything else you wanted to talk about?” Sam asked.

“Gabriel mentioned a few weeks ago that you had wanted to discuss your mental health?”

Sam worried his lip. “Would that be okay? I know you’re busy with them-”

“I would be happy to listen and see what I can do.”

Sam took a deep breath, ignoring the faint ache still in his chest, and readied himself. “When I was in college I was getting panic and anxiety attacks, and they were often enough that a doctor prescribed Xanax. I know that it can be an addictive medication, but I took it exactly as prescribed and it helped. But then after Jess died and I ended up on the road with Dean, it was too hard to ever go back to any doctors so I just stopped taking it. And sure, my anxiety worsened, but that seemed unimportant compared to the end of the world.”

“I want you to promise me that you’ll try to give your mental health a higher priority. I can see about finding a medication for your panic attacks that isn’t addictive if you want me to, but this is important,” he told Sam, but his tone wasn’t one of disapproval, it was something softer. 

“Sure,” Sam said. “Thanks.” 


	8. Gabriel

Sam shifted his head, resting his forehead against Gabriel’s neck. He couldn’t tell whether or not his archangel was asleep yet, but he whispered anyway, “I love you. I love you more than I can comprehend some days. And sometimes I see you making this face, like, ‘is this the thing that’ll make him leave?’ and it breaks my heart, Gabe. All I want is for you to be happy, and sometimes I wonder how it could possibly be me that makes you happy, but I trust you. Maybe you’ll tire of me, maybe you won’t, but I trust that you would tell me, that wouldn’t just disappear into the unknown. But I wish you would trust me, because there is _nothing_ that would make me cast you aside, archangel mine. You could have a secret lair with your supposedly monstrous children and not only would I still love you, but I’d love them too. And they would be beautiful.”

 

Gabriel didn’t move, and Sam dozed off, never thinking about whether or not Gabriel ever heard his words.

 

* * *

“Come on, Sam! We’re going to be late!” Gabriel paused, taking a second look at Sam’s attire. “And there’s no _way_ you’re going anywhere looking like _that._ ”

 

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Sam was wearing his normal everyday clothing. Jeans, a t-shirt, and his leather jacket.

 

“You’ll stick out.” Gabriel shook his head. “I’ll fix it. Ready to go?”

 

Gabriel waited for Sam’s tentative yes before taking his arm and snapping.

 

The first thing Sam noticed when they reappeared was the noise. People, lots of people that he couldn’t see, talking, and the sound of clinking glasses.

 

The next thing he noticed was that his mate was wearing a suit. Not one of the cheap suits they used when impersonating the FBI, but something a little more exquisite.

 

And then Sam looked down. He was wearing a black waistcoat with a long sleeved shirt that was a dark green. His tie was of similar color.

 

He looked up at Gabriel to find the archangel licking his lips as he stared at him. When Sam raised an eyebrow, Gabriel said, “You look so good. I can’t _wait_ to help you take it off.”

 

“So what are you waiting for?”

 

Gabriel smirked, but shook his head. “Nice try, but we _are_ here for a reason. Come on.”

 

Sam dutifully followed the archangel through a doorway leading towards the bulk of the noise.

 

The ballroom was crowded. Sam didn’t know anyone and he’d never seen so many well dressed people all at once.

 

The women wore fancy, tasteful, dresses and the men wore fancy suits, mostly black, grey, or blue, with other colors appearing occasionally.

 

There were some women in black (tasteful, modest, flattering, simple, shic, conservative, sleek, elegant) cocktail dresses with trays of champagne flutes drifting among the crowd.

 

“Gabriel!” Sam hissed. “Why are we here?!”

 

“Why, to have fun, Samalam! Why else?”

 

Sam didn’t have it in him to be surprised by Gabriel’s answer. Gabriel was an archangel, he lived for the moment. Instant gratification and all that. “Do you know anyone here?”

 

“Sure. Dionysus _never_ misses a good party.”

 

The hunter swallowed. “Is everyone here a pagan?”

 

“No, no, don’t be absurd. At least half are demigods or their mortal company.” Gabriel paused. “Yeah… it’s a pagan party. And as my entourage, you’re my disguise.”

 

“They won’t try to eat me again, right?”

 

“Nope, humans are strictly off the menu tonight.” Gabriel looked around for a second, and then took Sam’s hand. “We can’t just stand here, we’ll stick out.”

 

Sam followed as Gabe pulled him through the crowd. He kept his head down, but he watched as Gabriel quietly greeted some of the figures they wove through as the archangel led him who knew where.

 

“Faðir! I’m so glad to see you!”

 

Sam looked up, finding a young woman in a black cocktail dress standing in front of them. The dress was sleeveless with a modest drape neck. Her black hair was braided intricately and none of it hid her brown eyes. She was holding a platter of what he could only guess were champagne flutes. Sam _knew_ that the word she used was some form of father, and that he should be able to place her, but he couldn't.

 

“Like I’d miss it, you know how much I love extravagance.” Gabriel turned with a look towards Sam. Sam couldn’t quite read the expression on his face, but it was almost like, ‘Well, here is a child of mine, what do you think?’ But there was a concerned aspect, not just like he was daring Sam, but also like he was afraid how Sam was going to react. “Sam, this is Hela, one of my fosterlings.”

 

Sam was pretty sure he knew exactly why Gabriel was afraid. Because sometimes, like now, he did hide an expression not unlike this one, like he was preparing for the news that his heart was going to shatter into a million pieces. Gabriel’s tone had conveyed excitement, because he loved this woman and was happy to see her again, but also worried about how _he_ would react.

 

He appreciated Gabriel’s honesty as far as finally introducing him to his fosterlings, but Sam wished that Gabriel hadn’t experienced so much pain as to think that this might be enough for him to break it off with Gabriel. _It wasn’t, but he wished Gabriel hadn’t found the guarding of his heart to be so necessary._

 

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Hela. I'm Sam.”

 

The woman gave him a critical look, but she must have found what she was looking for because she nodded. “I've heard only good things about you, but my brothers and I won't hesitate to maim you if you hurt Faðir.”

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Sam said, and he knew he spoke the truth. He loved Gabriel, and he wanted Gabriel to be happy, and the thing that made Gabriel the happiest was Sam getting along with his family. What did it matter if that family included all the archangels and any pagans he might have helped raise? Family was more than blood, it was anyone Gabriel considered to be his family and there was _nothing_ wrong with that.

 

“Would you like any of this champagne?” Hela asked.

 

Sam glanced at Gabriel for direction, and watched as the archangel took two of the champagne flutes, passing one to him.

 

“I don’t mean to run you off,” Sam said, “But could you excuse us for a moment?”

 

“Of course.” Hela flashed the mortal a knowing smile. “I have rounds to make. Have fun.”

 

Sam put his free hand on Gabriel’s arm and pulled him in the direction of the least crowded area he could find. “I love you,” he said firmly. “I love you, and I want you to be happy. I don't care if your fosterlings were a kitten or the world serpent, or the goddess of death, because I’m going to love you regardless and as long as they all reasonably behave themselves, I _promise_ to make a concerted effort to get along with them for you. But I want you to trust me too. I don’t know if you heard me when I said this the other day, but it breaks my heart when you look at me with that expression of preparing yourself for me to leave you. Because I’m not leaving Gabriel. I’m not going anywhere, and sometimes I wonder what it would take for you to go, but _I trust you._ ”

 

Gabriel swallowed, hard, at his intended mate. He would dwell on how _perfect_ Sam was, and then he’d do something like this that made his human seem even _more_ perfect and he had no idea how he was supposed to deserve that. So instead of trying to form words, he surged forward, standing on the balls of his feet and pulling Sam down so that he could kiss the man he wanted nothing more than to stay with for the rest of their lives.

 

And then Gabriel flew them away and they made love for the first time, which consummates their mate bond.

The End.

***

No. My apologizes, we’ve gotten ahead of ourselves.

 

"Daaaaad, Fen ate my steak again- OH GODS GET A ROOM!!!"

 

Gabriel pulled away, looking over his shoulder at the boy standing there.

 

Sam would have had a hard time guessing the age of person, except physically, he looked like a young teenager.

 

“Someday, Narvi, you will find someone that you love, and you will understand that finding a room is not always convenient. Narvi, this is Sam. Sam, this is my youngest fosterling.”

 

Sam reached to shake the child’s hand with his free hand but Narvi waved him off.

 

“I don’t want to know where your hands have been! EW!” He rolled his eyes.

 

“You said something about Fen stealing your steak?” Gabriel asked. “What do you want me to do about it?”

 

The kid shrugged. “Make him give me more?”

 

“Did he steal your whole steak?” Gabriel asked, looking confused.

 

“Just a few bites out of the middle. But that’s the best part!”

 

“Do you want to know a secret?” Sam asked.

 

Narvi tilted his head. “What secret?”

 

“Food you steal from your siblings _always_ tastes better than your own food.”

 

“Really?” He watched aptly as both Gabriel and Sam nodded solemnly. “I’ma steal Fen’s adult fizzy drink!” He turned around and ran off into the crowd.

 

Gabriel choked, laughing as he tried to sip his champagne.

 

Sam blanched. “Gabe, can you hold this?” Without waiting for a response, he put his glass of champagne in Gabriel’s empty hand and tried to hurry into the direction Narvi had gone. He didn’t condone underage drinking, and didn’t want to be the reason Gabriel’s _youngest fosterling_ got into trouble. How was he supposed to know that the kid would make the leap from food to drink?

 

On the other side of the room there were a few tables set up out of the way with chairs. He saw Narvi at one of the tables, a glass of what he could only guess was champagne in hand. Next to him was a tall and muscular man, he guess to be about Hela’s age.

 

Sam swallowed. He didn’t really want to walk over there and intervene.

 

“Sam? It’s okay that Narvi has Fen’s champagne. Let’s leave them be.”

 

“But he’s underage!” Sam knew that Gabriel had masqueraded as a pagan for a long time, and that the pagan kid was probably just fine, but he felt it necessary to argue anyway.

 

“They're actually getting along in public for once, and I'd reeeeeally like to not have to pay for damages just this once.” Gabriel held out Sam’s glass of champagne. “Please drink some of this? We’re here to have fun.”

 

Sam took the proffered glass. “But…”

 

“They already all changed their glasses from the god powered stuff to the human stuff. No one at that table is getting drunk tonight, especially off of something as weak as human champagne." Sam sighed and Gabriel continued, “If you really don’t want to drink, say no and I’ll put it back and say nothing more about it.”

 

Sam glanced at his glass. “What is it?”

 

Gabriel smirked. “Exactly what you can handle without getting drunk, but more than enough to let you feel a good buzz. Trust me. We're here to have fun and getting you blackout drunk would not be my idea of a good time, okay? It’s just something to help you relax and be able to stop worrying about everything so much. Let me do the worrying, even if it’s just for a few hours. I promise. No loss of control, no waking up three days later wondering where your pants went and where you are. We’re just relaxing, and having a good time without any stress.”

 

“No more surprises, just you and me having a good time?” Sam was almost begging. He wanted to have a good time here with Gabriel at this cocktail party where knew no one. Gabriel was right. He didn’t often have the opportunity to put all his worries aside and let Gabriel take control of everything and he _knew_ it would be nice, if he really could just _relax_.

 

“I can’t promise that there won’t be _any_ surprises, I am a trickster and all my fosterlings are present and accounted for. But I can promise that I won’t let anyone hurt you. Go on, try the champagne.” The archangel brought his flute to his mouth, demonstrating the process for Sam.

 

With another look of trepidation at the champagne flute, he took a tentative sip.  The fact that it was chilled at all surprised him, especially since he was certain they’d been walking around with their flutes long enough for the liquid inside to warm to room temperature. But no, it was perfectly chilled.

 

It had a fruity taste, and he guessed that it was the smoothest alcoholic beverage he’d ever tasted. Despite the chill, it left that pleasurable heat in his belly. It was fizzy, like Narvi had described it, and as he looked closer at the contents, he noticed that it was slightly darker and more golden in color than he would have expected champagne to be. “What is it?” he asked, certain Gabriel would know.

 

“Nothing your poor mortal mind needs to analyze right this second. I still want to have some fun!” Gabriel put a hand on Sam’s arm and led him in a random direction. “But wait. First, I need to improve my disguise.” He reached into a pocket a pulled out a pair of fake sunglasses and a fake red nose and put on both. “How do I look?”

 

Sam laughed. What was he supposed to say? The angel that he fully intended to mate with was beautiful, even when he looked as silly as he did right then. “You look delectable,” he decided. “I can’t _wait_ to help you remove it, along with the rest of your clothing.” They hadn’t had sex yet, but he felt that since Gabriel had said it first and it didn’t make him uncomfortable, then saying something like that wasn’t off the table.

 

“Touche.” Gabriel nodded to himself. “Would you care to dance?”

 

“That sounds like fun,” Sam agreed, taking another sip of the champagne. He didn’t think it was something he’d order for himself, but it wasn’t bad, if a little sweet.

 

Gabriel led the way towards the center of the room where people were dancing.

 

“Dad? May I have your fizzy drink?”

 

“Vali! That’s not Faðir, don’t be silly!”

 

The two people in front of them were another kid, this one looking identical to Narvi, and a medium height slender young man, possibly a little older than Hela.

 

"I'm almost disappointed in you Vali, to try and steal a stranger's drink...."  
  
"Slip, it's Dad!"  
  
"What are you talking about?! I'm sorry sirs, my brother is a menace."

 

Sam glanced at Gabriel, who was clearly holding back a grin.

 

“It’s okay, Sleipnir,” Gabriel said, this time smiling widely. He tapped his finger on the rim of his glass. “He’s welcome to it.”

 

“But, Sir!”

 

Sam was enjoying watching the exchange, because while he had seen a side of Gabriel similar to this when his archangel played with Samandriel, these were children Gabriel had helped raise and had known for far longer than the fledgling he hadn’t met until returning to Heaven. Gabriel was _good_ with children, and he loved his fosterlings and Sam was happy that Gabriel had brought him because otherwise he might have _missed this._

 

There was a crash, and they all turned to look as someone dropped their crystal champagne flute. The broken glass glittered like a handful of diamonds.

 

There was a muttered thank you and an apology, and a moment later when Sam turned back towards where Sleipnir and Vali, they were gone. “Who was that?” he asked quietly.

 

“Sleipnir, my oldest fosterling, and Vali, Narvi’s twin. I’m not sure why they were acting like that. They’re usually friendlier. Then again, Vali’s been stealing Slip’s and Jorm’s champagne since they arrived. They always do that.”

 

Sam took another sip of his champagne. The burn of the alcohol was a little stronger this time, but it was warm and he liked it. He didn’t think he’d have any more, once he finished this glass. It bordered on a little too sweet and as much as he trusted Gabriel about it not being too much for him to handle, he knew he didn’t want to drink too much. Not here.

 

* * *

 

Gabriel turned around when the champagne flute fell from Sam’s hand, shattering onto the floor much like the one earlier had. “Sam? Are you alright?”

 

“Just dandy,” Sam replied, and Gabriel almost couldn’t tell whether his human was being jovial or sarcastic. He vanished the glass on the floor, but not before swiping a finger through the spot wet with what was left of Sam’s champagne. It smelled like the diluted mixture he’d taken from Hela’s tray for them both, but as he stuck his finger in his mouth to taste it, his eyes widened. _Someone_ had switched Sam’s drink for the stronger stuff the deities preferred. And he was pretty sure he had a 1 in 6 chance of guessing correctly. He snapped what remained of the liquid into a vial.

 

“Sam, Sweetheart? We’re going to go sit for a spell, okay? I’d like you to drink some water.”

 

“Oakey dokey,” Sam agreed amenably.

 

Gabriel was pissed. He’d promised Sam a good time and Sam had seemed genuinely happy about meeting the children he’d raised during his time as a pagan. And he’d _thought_ that they’d been pretty happy about meeting the person he intended to stay with for eternity. But this- this was bad. Sam _hated_ being drunk, and from his last experience with Sam coming back down from the height of drunkenness, he could understand why. It wasn’t about the fact that he had nothing to fear from Sam, because _obviously_ Sam wasn’t a mean drunk, not like his father had been. No, the problem came from the fact that Sam had told him, in great detail, that the feeling of being out of control, something a lot of people enjoyed being drunk, _for,_ left Sam feeling similar to how he’d felt the entire time he’d been influenced by demon blood, or the few times he had been possessed.

 

Sam had explained once that the nice buzz that came with consuming just the right amount of alcohol was nice, sometimes, when they were celebrating or having fun, but otherwise he preferred complete control over his faculties. Gabriel that _thought_ that encouraging him to have _one flute of diluted pagan champagne_ would provide that, but some idiot had switched it for something stronger. The stronger stuff which even Gabriel had chosen not to consume for the sake of looking out for Sam.

 

On their way to the quiet corner by the tables, Gabriel flagged down Hela, who was still serving champagne.

 

“Faðir,” she said.

 

“Can you get me a glass of water?” he asked. “It’s for Sam.”

 

“Sure.” She selected a glass from her platter and moved to give it to Sam, but Gabriel moved to take it from her. While she watched him curiously, he ran his finger around the rim of the glass to check the contents. Just water. Good.

 

“Sam, could you drink this for me, please?”

 

The hunter took the glass obediently and drained it in a few swallows. His human was like a giant puppy, why would they do this to him? He refilled the glass with a thought. “Somebody put the strong stuff in his flute.”

 

Hela cursed colorfully in an ancient language. She was his daughter all right. “Do you need anything else?”

 

She hadn’t done it, that much he knew. Not that he’d suspected her for certain. “No, thank you.”

 

He continued leading Sam to the corner of the room, calling silently to Aziraphale as he went.

 

“What happened?” Aziraphale whispered when he was next to him. Gabriel glanced at Sam to see that the hunter hadn’t even noticed the appearance of the other archangel.

 

“Someone gave him strong pagan spirits. I’m pretty sure I know who it was.”

 

“Your fosterlings?”

 

“I think the boys decided it would be a good prank. I’m not amused, and I’m pretty sure Sam’s not going to react well when he comes out of it. He’s had a lot of bad experiences with losing his autonomy. And I _promised_ this wouldn’t happen.” They reached the corner of the room. “Sam, can you sit down for me?”

 

Sam sat down against the wall, and Gabriel handed him the champagne flute full of water. “How do you feel?” Gabriel asked.

 

“Fuzzy,” Sam answered, sipping the water. “Why am I so dizzy? It’s like the whole word is spinning. I don’t like it.”

 

Gabriel looked across the room to see that all of his fosterlings, with the understandable exception of Hela, were sitting at one of the tables on that side of the room.

 

“Sam, I’m going to be right back, okay? I’m just going over there, but Aziraphale is going to sit here with you and get you some more water if you need it, alright?”

 

Sam nodded, but Gabriel wasn’t sure his intended understood what he was agreeing with. But the archangel didn’t repeat himself, just moving in the direction he said he was going. He had some fosterlings to chew out for inappropriate behavior.

 

“All five of you are grounded for the next decade,” he said slowly when he was standing at the end of their table and holding up the vial of contaminated champagne. “And I want someone to tell me what the _fuck_ this was all about, or we might make it a century. And don’t think that just because most of you are adults means that I can’t still figure out ways to make your lives _unbearable._ Because this? This is the height of unacceptable behavior. Tricksters are supposed to stand _against_ this kind of thing. I swore an oath to not lay a hand on a single hair of a single one of you, and I intend to uphold that until my dying breath, but this? I have killed people for less than this, and one of you decided that my _intended mate_ was a reasonable target.”

 

“If you’re afraid of him when he’s drunk, then he’s not the right mate for you,” Fenrir said.

 

Gabriel blinked. “That doesn’t make it okay! I _know_ what kind of drunk he is! He’s the kind that wants to have a drink and not get drunk because he’s had the kinds of bad experiences that mean that out of control is not a pleasant feeling! I invited him to this cocktail party for a nice relaxing evening, and so that he could meet all of you and get off to the right foot and _what did you decide to do?_ You drugged him!”

 

“I am disappointed,” Gabriel said. “Because one of you took something I said, out of context, and have very likely ruined my evening. The other day, my intended told me that even if I had a lair of monstrous children he’d still love them. I think that metaphorical lair of children would have treated him a little better than the five of you did today.”

 

* * *

 

“Gabe?”

 

Sam was looking around, trying to find his angel, but he couldn’t find him, and he was confused and dizzy and really not feeling good at all.

 

Someone was next to him, whispering something about something he couldn’t make out, but he didn’t feel in danger. Whoever was next to him was safe, and he knew it. He blinked slowly, barely able to pay attention to what was happening as he started falling towards whoever was next to him, slightly surprised when they pushed him back to sitting up straight.

 

“Careful, can’t have you getting hurt while your Mate is defending you.”

 

Sam looked up in confusion at the person sitting there. He _knew_ that he was supposed to know them, but he couldn’t place who they were. Someone tall and with white hair and why couldn’t he remember them? “Who’r you?”

 

Despite the facial features of the person sitting there not changing, Sam was certain that they were feeling worry, and that made him sad because that was _his fault._

 

_Everything was always his fault._

 

“I’m Aziraphale, Sam. I’m Gabriel’s older brother.”

 

It took Sam a while to process that. He _knew_ that his mate had older brothers, of course, he’d met them all, but he was pretty sure he couldn’t name them right now, if anyone asked.

 

 _But that name._ “Oh! You’re Crawly’s mate! In Good Omens!”

 

The archangel’s head tilted. “Are you familiar with Good Omens?”

 

“It’s my favorite book,” Sam slurred. “You and Crawly and the antichrist saved the world. I wish I could do that.” He felt sad. But the sadness was underneath his earnest desire to do just that.

 

_But the road to Hell was paved with good intentions._

 

“I think my Crowley would prefer you didn’t call him that.”

 

“My Crowley stole his name.” How was their Crowley doing? They hadn’t heard from him since Retail Hell. Despite the fact that he was a demon and likely technically their enemy, Sam kind of hoped he was okay.

 

“I’m sure my Crowley didn’t care too much for that, either. If he knows.” There was a moment of silence. Then he said, “How are you feeling?”

 

“Where’s Gabri’l?” He wanted his mate. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t official yet, it was going to be and that’s the only person he wanted anywhere near him.

 

“He’s over there.” Aziraphale pointed.

 

Sam didn’t see Gabriel, and that didn’t surprise him because there was no way this could be real. He didn’t get to meet his heroes because he didn’t deserve them.

 

“I always wanted to see your bookstore. Not to shop, not to separate you from your books, just to see it.”

 

“It’s not there anymore.”

 

“Of course not,” Sam agreed. But not sarcastic. “It’s fiction. Fantasy.”

 

“It’s just as true as the Winchester Gospels and those are also marked fiction.”

 

“They are fiction.”Sam nodded to himself. “They left out the best part about the demon blood.” Sam didn’t want to continue on that vein of thought because it was sad and he didn’t want to dwell on all of his mistakes.

 

Aziraphale didn’t say anything either, concerned that anything he said would simply further Sam’s spiral. “Are you still dizzy?”

 

“A little.” It was uncomfortable, but the sick feeling was worse. He just wanted Gabriel to come back and hold him.

 

“Would it be okay if I eased it a little for you?”

 

Sam shrugged, but remembered angels usually needed more consent than that. “Just a little.”

 

Aziraphale brushed the edge of Sam’s shoulder. He could see a little clearer and his brain wasn’t quite as muddled, but the touch had done nothing for the unease brewing in the pit of his stomach. Sam swallowed heavily. The champagne flute still had some water left, so he swallowed it. Good wet water.

 

“I’m going to use the restroom,” he said, slowly, firmly, as he carefully stood up. He didn’t think he was going to puke, but it was always a possibility after the consumption of alcohol. “Do you know where it is?”

 

“That way.”Aziraphale pointed. “Out the door you and Gabriel came in when you arrived. Would you like me to escort you?”

 

“No!” The answer came out faster and harsher than Sam intended. “No, I’m fine. You should stay here, I’ll be right back.” He headed in the direction Aziraphale had said before the archangel could have the opportunity to argue into escorting Sam. Sam didn’t want to be escorted to the bathroom, he wanted to slip out and have a moment alone.

 

The corridor outside the ballroom was significantly quieter and he exhaled a sigh of relief. Now to find somewhere dark.

 

It took him a few minutes wandering around to find a broom closet, but it was dark inside and he doubted anyone would think to look for him there, so he stepped inside and shut the door behind him. It was roomy enough that he didn’t bump his head.

 

The alcohol in his blood was burning, leaving him feeling hot and sick, so he stripped, uncaring that Gabriel had promised delightful foreplay after the party. He just wanted to be a little cooler and a little less broken.

 

Once naked, he laid down on the floor of the broom closet and curled up underneath the waistcoat he’d stripped out of. No reason to scandalize whoever found him.

 

* * *

 

Gabriel had nothing left to say to his disobedient children, so he turned around and started walking, fully intending to return to his brother and his intended.

 

“You have to calm down.”

 

Gabriel raised an eyebrow at Samael, who had more or less materialized next to him.

 

“If you don’t calm down, you’re going to terrify your mate and you know you don’t want to do that.”

 

“I need to see Sam.”

 

“I’m not disputing that. Sam needs to see you too. But if he sees you like this, he _is_ going to panic. And I know you don’t want that.”

 

“Samael, they… _they hurt him._ The children I raised _hurt_ the man I’m going to _mate_.” Gabriel’s lip quivered, but that was the only physical display of emotion he allowed himself.

 

Crowley hugged his little brother. “They’ll get what’s coming to them, no injury to a single hair on a single head. But Sam needs you right now.”

 

“I know,” Gabriel replied returning the hug stiffly.

 

Crowley held onto Gabriel until his baby brother relaxed into it, accepting the comfort he rarely offered. “Let’s go check on Sam and Azi,” he said, deciding that Gabriel was probably calm enough that he wouldn’t send Sam into a panic attack.

 

* * *

 

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU LOST SAM?!”

 

Aziraphale swallowed, looking a lot like a deer caught in the headlights. He also had nothing to say in his own defence because Gabriel was right. He should have known better than to let the intoxicated human wander off when he should have known Gabriel had good reasons for not leaving him along.

 

Crowley at first looked like he was going to say something, either in Aziraphale’s defence or telling Gabriel to calm down again, but he sighed and shrugged his defeat. "Yeah, I've got nothing in your defense Zira."

 

“You’re not helping!” Gabriel yelled at Crowley. “If you hadn’t gotten in my way, we would have been back here before Sam wandered off and ended up who knows where!”

 

“In which case we would have entirely different problems on our hands.” Crowley rolled his eyes. “Zira, did you see which direction Sam went?”

 

“He went out the corridor towards the bathroom, but I didn’t see him once he left the ballroom.”

 

“I’m going to go look for him, and if anything untoward happened to him because you left him alone, _I will fry you both in holy oil._ ”

* * *

 

Gabriel found Sam naked and crying in a broom closet. His clothes were draped over him enough to keep his modesty and his angelic senses told him that no one had touched Sam. _He would have smote anyone who had dared lay a finger on him, and then he would have fought whichever one of his fosterlings had done this, to hell with the consequences for oath breaking._

 

“Sam, Sweetheart, is it okay if I join you down there?”

 

Sam sniffled, shifting in an attempt to find the voice of the person he’d been waiting forever and ever for. “Gabe? That you?” He made grabbing hands towards the one he wanted, but didn’t dare allow himself to actually touch, lest he accidentally _sully_ the archangel.

 

Gabriel closed the door behind him and laid down on the floor, drawing his long limbed mate into his arms. “I love you, Samuel Winchester, and I am _so sorry_ that the alcohol content of your drink was higher than I said it would be.”

 

“It's okay,” Sam said, because yeah, he felt like crap, but he had never been out of control. But mostly, he just felt sick and uneasy and it wasn’t Gabe’s fault he couldn’t hold is liquor.

 

“No, Sam, it’s not okay. One of my fosterlings got it into their head that I was afraid of you when you got drunk so they thought that getting you drunk was acceptable behavior, and it wasn’t.”

 

Sam sniffed again, leaning his head towards the crook of Gabe’s neck because he liked to feel safe. “What did I do wrong? Why do they hate me? I just wanted them to like me, you love them so much.” Sam whispered.

 

“They don’t _hate_ you. And you didn’t do anything wrong, Sam. This is not your fault.” Sam didn’t seem inclined to agree, but Gabriel kissed his cheek and his neck. He got an idea. “You are beautiful, Samshine, may I show you how much I love you? Not sex, not while you’re feeling like this. I just want to lavish you with the attention you deserve.”

 

“Why?”

 

Gabriel’s heart _broke_ . Sam’s tone conveyed loss and fear and hurt and pain, and so much _self loathing_ that it physically _burned._ It made him want to wrap Sam in a cocoon of grace blankets and smite everyone who had ever so much as _looked_ at Sam wrong, let alone actually hurt him.

 

He kissed Sam’s collarbone, and then his shoulder. “Because I love you and because you are worth it.” He moved to pull the clothing away from Sam’s body. “Is it okay if I uncover you?” He waited for Sam’s very clear consent, and pulled the coverings off his intended.

 

He’d seen Sam naked before, of course, but this seemed more intimate, somehow. It was completely dark in the small closet, but being an archangel, he could see perfectly well.

 

Sam had various hunting scars, which was to be expected. The largest were the one on his back and one near his appendix.

 

“I want to show you how much I love you,” Gabriel said. “I want to show you how much you mean to me.” He ran his fingers across the back of Sam’s neck shoulder, and then repeated the motion, this time gently massaging the muscles. “You are beautiful, and strong, and I intend for you to be my _lifelong mate._ ”

 

Sam wasn’t sure how much of Gabriel’s words he was actively comprehending, but he relaxed against the archangel he was completely and totally in love with. _He felt safe, in a way that he had never felt until after the apocalypse was cancelled, and only felt when in the arms of his archangel. This was home._ “ _Love you._ ”

 

“My brothers all like you, and you’re amazing with Sami.” He continued massaging Sam’s back, slowly removing most of the alcohol from his blood as he did so. “If we both decide we ever want to have children, I want to have them with you.”

 

Saw _purred._ “I love how much you adore your family. I love watching you play with Sami, and how you spend so much effort trying to make sure that everyone is happy and healthy and cared for.” He closed his eyes, leaning back against Gabriel’s touch. “I’m glad you let me help you ease some of your burden, but also, I’m glad I don’t have to be strong all the time with you.”

 

Gabriel leaned forward to kiss Sam, but Sam turned at the last second so he was kissing Sam’s neck. In return, Sam kissed Gabriel’s head and continued on to say, “I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I love that you would want to spend the rest of your immortal life, _with me._ ”

 

This time, Sam leaned forward to kiss Gabriel full on. There was no battle for dominance, just two ridiculously in love people surrendering.

 

And the mate bond formed.

 

There was no shattering of light bulbs or explosion of grace. And there were no orgasms or sex or consumation.

 

There was only love.

* * *

 

As much as Gabriel and Sam might have liked to remain in the broom closet for awhile longer, that wasn't entirely feasible.

 

“Would you like me to take you home?” Gabriel asked quietly into the hair of the one snuggling in the crook of his neck.

 

“You didn't undress me properly, I'm disappointed,” Sam snarked. “We can't leave yet.”

 

Gabriel grinned. “I could snap you the clothes back on and undress you here.”

 

“We are not high school students and we are not having sex in a broom closet.”

 

“But it would be fun!”

 

“Gabriel, do you really want your first time to be in a broom closet, when your partner can’t see?”

 

"But Sam, there's no need for you to see if I do all the work for you!"

 

“But what if I like helping?” Sam’s tone was light, open to whatever Gabriel wanted to do. He pressed closer to Gabriel. “A bed would be better.”

 

“And you’re sure you want to go back out there?”

 

“How are you ever going to look your brothers in the face again if we don’t go back out there.”

 

Gabriel pouted, not that Sam could see it. “That's a low blow, Samalam. But if you're sure you want to do it…” The archangel snapped.

 

A second later, the closet door swung open and Sam stumbled to regain his balance. He was dressed, but his tie was missing and he just knew his hair was mussed from lying on the floor, _and he was going to murder his mate with love._

 

There was a soft pop, and he couldn’t see because there was confetti everywhere.

 

“Congratulations!” Crowley exclaimed. “May you have many long and happy years together.”

 

“Don’t gloat, dearest, it’s unbecoming,” Azi said. “But I would also like to offer my congratulations.”

 

“You’re gloating too,” Gabriel said. “Sam, my brothers are being mean.”

 

Sam smiled. Older brothers- they were all as similar as they were different. “They’re just jealous they didn’t think to have sex in a broom closet.”

 

“You think so?”

 

“Mhmm. So… are you going to introduce me to the rest of your children?”

 

“Uh… no. They’re grounded for the next century and you almost had a panic attack. But, I would like this dance. And we can say goodbye to Hela before we leave.”

 

Sam wanted to argue, didn’t want to let the unfortunate alcohol ruin Gabriel’s reason for bringing him, but at the same time, he was feeling better and Gabriel was happy and pushing would only ruin the good mood. “I would like to have this dance,” he said instead.

 

Gabriel smiled widely and took Sam’s hand, leading him back into the ballroom to where other people were dancing.

 

Sam didn’t know the dance, but Gabriel took the lead and walked him through the steps.

 

It was fun, and Sam knew that Gabriel was in his element. The archangel was beautiful, _glowing_ and while he hadn’t figured out the mate bond yet, he could feel his mate’s joy. And it was contagious.

 

The dance ended so they danced another and both Sam and the archangel developed a healthy flush from the exertion.

 

“Oh, Sam,” Gabriel whispered after pressing a gentle kiss to Sam’s cheek. “I love you so much.”

 

Sam moaned and kissed Gabriel back. “I’m glad you brought me. I had a good time.”

 

“Good.” Gabriel hugged him. “What if we just went home now?”

 

“So you can undress me properly? Please? I’m _so_ game.” What Sam wanted, _really wanted,_ was for Gabriel to keep the control he’d been taking. He wanted to give in, for Gabe to protect him and keep him safe. _And maybe take care of him._ In a lot of his past relationships, his partners had all wanted Sam to take control because he was so “big and strong” but it wasn’t _him._ It was emotionally draining to have to be that way _all the time._

 

“Oh, Sam,” Gabriel repeated, even softer than before. “I will absolutely take you home and undress you properly. I want to take such good care of you. I picked up this mint lubricant that doubles as a body lotion, and I think it would make your skin smell absolutely _divine._ ”

 

“ _Please_ ,” Sam whispered. “Please take me home and make love to me.”

 

And Gabriel did exactly that.


	9. Epilogue

Gabriel woke up to the sound of Sam screaming.

 

After leaving the party, they’d gone back to Sam’s hotel room, which had not been shared with Dean because they’d decided ahead of time to  _ finally  _ get separate rooms.

 

There had been  _ really good  _ sex, and then Gabriel had carefully cleaned them up and had held Sam until they had both fallen asleep, which had not taken very long at all because it had been a long day. But they had both been happy and  _ should  _ have had nothing but good dreams.

 

But of course, things never ever happened the way that they were supposed to. 

  
  


So the sound of Sam screaming woke Gabriel instantaneously, and it didn’t take the archangel more than an instant to determine that Sam was twisting and shaking in the throes of a nightmare.

 

Which might not have been that unusual, given all the things the Winchesters had faced in their lives. The more concerning thing though, was the fact that Sam’s nose had started bleeding and their bed was levitating.

 

_ “Rafa!” _

 

Trying not to panic, Gabriel gently shook Sam’s shoulder. “Sam, Sam, I’m here, it’s okay, wake up please, Sweetheart.”

 

It took another minute for Sam to wake up. The second Sam's eyes opened, the bed crashed into the floor.

 

Gabriel winced as the shock of the bed hitting the floor caused Sam to whimper and curl in on himself.  _ You should have seen that coming,  _ he chided himself mentally. Why else would the bed have been in the air to begin with?

 

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, leaning towards Sam in an attempt to get his mate’s attention. “Can you look at me for a second?”

 

“I’m sorry.” If it hadn’t been for the fact that he was an archangel, and paying close attention, he wouldn’t have been able to hear Sam’s barely muttered statement. “ _ I’m so sorry.” _

 

“Oh, Sam. It’s okay, Sweetheart.” Sam’s nose was still bleeding, and Gabriel was certain that his mate had managed to get the blood all over himself. But he didn’t care, he just wanted to help, and he wasn’t quite sure how. He wrapped his arms around Sam, hugging him but being careful not to shift him unnecessarily. “Does your head hurt?”

 

“Mhmm,” Sam whimpered pitifully, pressing his forehead against Gabriel’s chest.

 

There was definitely blood all over the sheets, Gabriel decided. And their clothing. And while that was a problem, he also really needed to figure out  _ why  _ Sam had levitated the bed and why he was bleeding. “Do you think you can stand? I promise I won’t let you fall.”

 

Sam shrugged and shivered, like he was trying to get even closer to Gabriel, but that wasn’t possible.

 

A few minutes later, with Gabriel’s wheedling, they were both standing to the side of the bed, Gabriel more or less holding Sam upright. They had been naked, but when they’d crawled out of the bed Gabriel had decided that they should at the very least be wearing shirts and boxers, for Raphael’s benefit, because he just knew that his brother would arrive any second to find out what the fuss was all about. They were also wearing flannel pajama bottoms, because Gabriel loved soft things and thought his mate might appreciate it in the cold of the room.

 

Gabriel had also conjured a washcloth because Sam’s nose was still bleeding profusely and he wasn’t sure what to do about that. He didn’t know very much about that kind of ailment. Sam was holding the washcloth under his nose and resting his forehead on the top of Gabriel’s head.

 

A moment later there was a flash of light. Sam winced, closing his eyes as it sent a wave of fresh pain through his head. Unwillingly, a whimper escaped.

 

“Gabri’el? What happened?”

 

The light cleared, revealing that the speaker was Raphael. His tone of voice conveyed that he was concerned.

 

“I don’t know.” Gabriel spoke quietly, shifting his head to look directly at Raphael. “Sam woke up screaming and his nose won’t stop bleeding. And our bed was levitating! There’s no way that’s normal.”

 

Raphael gave them both a look of consideration, and then approached. “Samuel, can you sit on the edge of the bed for me, please?” He put a hand on Sam’s arm and waited as Gabriel let go and Sam sat carefully down.

 

“I’m not, dying, am I?” Sam asked, looking up at the healer.

 

“I don’t believe so,” the Healer denied. “Samuel, do you have any thoughts as to what happened?”

 

Sam shrugged. “I was just having a nightmare-” he swallowed, curling forward slightly. “It felt like the visions I started having a few years ago.” A fearful expression crossed his face as he looked down.  _ He didn't want to look at them.  _ Disgust at himself curled in the pit of his stomach. “But those were from the demon blood, killing Azazel made them stop.”

 

“I know that you haven’t ingested any demon blood in more than a year” Raphael began, “but would you me let take a quick look inside you? I won’t look inside your mind, but I’d like to see if I can tell what happened. So we know what happened.”

 

“Okay,” Sam said. He trusted Gabriel and he trusted Raphael and he saw no reason not to consent. He  _ wanted  _ to know what was going on with his body and this was the best way to find out.

 

Raphael put a hand on Sam’s forehead and time temporarily stopped. At least for Sam, and his mate.

 

Sam didn't feel Raphael reading him like a book, so it felt like only an instant had passed between Raphael putting the hand on his forehead and then pulling away. However, his nose was no longer bleeding and the blood in the towel has dried.

 

“Do you know what happened?” Gabriel asked.

 

Raphael nodded. “Nothing life-threatening. But, Sam, you may not like this. I swear to you that it's not bad, and that there is absolutely nothing wrong about you because of this, but I also know that it might be scary.”

 

Sam looked like he might try to tell Raphael to just spit it out already, but Raphael continued before he could. “Being the supposed True Vessel of Lucifer has nothing to do with being fed the demon blood. It also has nothing to do with what Lucifer and Michael ever wanted. They're happy in their current vessels, they could easily get the knowledge to make their own vessels if they desired, so there is no true necessity behind you being apart of this blood line. One of the things that is notable about this bloodline, however, is that there is a greater chance of a descendant being psychic. As the True Vessel of Lucifer, your body and soul had to be born comparable to Lucifer such that seeing him would not destroy you. But that would also allow you to see less powerful things that most humans would miss. You were born with those powers. They're yours. The demon blood given to you as a baby was designed to warp those powers, twisting them and manipulating them until they no longer belonged to you. Releasing Lucifer burned through all of it, including what you were manipulated into ingesting later. But Azazel had tried so hard to bind your powers. But something else happened yesterday, didn't it?”

 

Sam frowned. “The mate bond?”

 

“Archangels were designed to live forever, Sam. Our beings are tied to the very fabric of the universe. For any one of us to die- it would implode entirely. The rest of the angels are resilient, but not in the same way. And then there are humans. Beautiful creatures, frail and delicate, but infinitely creative. You have souls, not grace, to sustain you. Never underestimate the power of a soul. Souls can exist forever. Some souls go to hell, some to Heaven, but most souls in either situation simply exist there, not unlike the afterlife for angels and demons, which is an endless sleep that is in theory designed to rejuvenate them until they are ready to return to face their destiny. I don't know what that might be, it doesn't matter. What matters, Sam, is that your soul was designed to host an infinite undying archangel and you've created a bond mate with a different one. Angels and archangels mate for life and it is not possible to sever that bond. Nor will you want to. But what I'm trying to say is that the mate bond burned through any demon blood there might have been and destroyed the demonic tampering because it's not compatible. And because your psychic abilities are tied to your soul's archangelic compatibility, there's no way for you to safely be rid of them.”

 

Sam tried to follow and comprehend what the healer was saying, but while his head did feel much better, most of it wasn’t making very much sense. Except the last part. “There’s no way to get rid of the freaky demon powers?! No!  _ No! _ ”

 

Gabriel sat on Sam’s other side, wrapping his arms around his mate. “Sam, Sweetheart, they’re not freaky or demonic. They’re  _ yours _ and it’s okay.”

 

“I would recommend meditation,” Raphael added. “You’ll have to decide for yourself whether or not you want to use them, but you’ll need to learn the basics so they’re not uncontrolled. The migraines and nosebleeds are caused because using them this way is not unlike straining a muscle you’ve never used before.” He moved his hand and a second later he was holding a thick tome and a metal spoon. “Your powers have included telekinesis in the past, yes? I would like you to practice bending this spoon with your mind, a little bit each day.  _ After  _ meditating.”

 

“You want me to practice bending  _ this  _ spoon with my mind?” Would any spoon work? Sam wondered. Or was there something special about this specific spoon?

 

“It doesn’t have to be that one, but I thought you might like something solely for this purpose.”

 

Sam raised an eyebrow at the Healer, then started at the spoon. He wasn’t happy about this, but he could see the point. Control the powers, or they would control him. Bend the spoon. Or the spoon would bend him? No. Sam sighed, leaning to the side with a yawn.

 

“Should I come back in the morning? You should sleep.”

 

“Thanks, Raph. I think we’re good here.” Gabriel sat next to Sam as Raphael flew away. “We’ll figure this out, okay Sam? In the meantime, let’s get you back into bed.”

* * *

 

Deep within the depths of darkness, where no light could reach, there was a presence. she had been there since before time could be measured, before the creation of the Earth, before even the creation of the angels. 

For nearly an eternity, she had been left alone, with no outside contact, no sign of anything surviving the wrath of her Brother, and no hope of ever escaping.

After so many years, she had been certain that she would never see the darling boy that was her nephew ever again.

But then, there was a sound.

A small cry, echoing through the abyss, full of pain and fear. It begged for someone, anyone, to hear it, and to help the one who had called out. she had heard that sound before, long ago, before she had been cast into the depths and bid to never return. Then, she hadn’t been able to help, but there was no way that she wouldn’t help now.

For the first time in an eternity, she reached out with the power she held, and began her rise towards the light. No more would she be imprisoned within the darkness that she held sway over, to remain away from the one she loved more than any other.

No, she was free, and she would bring about the justice that was owed to any that her Brother had harmed.


End file.
